


If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them

by LiinHaglund



Series: If You Can't [2]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassins & Hitmen, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hidden Talents, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Swap, M/M, Manipulation, Out of Character, Precognition, Psychic Abilities, Racism, Secret Organizations, Somnophilia, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Temporary Character Death, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 40
Words: 59,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3818338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiinHaglund/pseuds/LiinHaglund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford has a few plans, some more naughty than others, about how to crush Eszett. His team is willing to follow him to the end, but can he get all the extra manpower he'll need?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken And Crushed To Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Elders of Eszett fall, and crumbling buildings are bad for your health.

Being inside a building as it collapses is detrimental to your health. Being inside a building as it collapses and you're in the middle of a fight, well, that isn't good for your health either. All in all he had a few bruises and scrapes, but he felt fine otherwise. Drenched, freezing, and royally pissed off, sure.

He perched on a wooden beam floating in the bay. He disliked his suit and was quite frankly very happy to have an excuse to get rid of it. Not that he minded formal wear in general, he just preferred something more fashionable than Eszett's idea of proper attire. Preferably cut to fit his body better. He wanted to flaunt what he had, not hide it.

The tall blond kitty was lying on the beam and even had his nose over the water. And people said he lacked compassion! Lies, all lies.

Brad had been very specific about the kitties surviving since day one and even more so lately. Schuldig could care less. Probably. They were fun to toy with, but they got in the way a lot as well. He'd had a real cat for a while, and she had never gotten in his way. She'd been very considerate that way. He pushed the thought away, because he needed to stay focused.

More people started floating to the surface while he shivered on the beam. His instincts told him to run, but he wasn't going anywhere until he knew his team was okay. Nagi and Farfarello came up first. Two badly injured kitties lifted with Nagi's power, quickly swimming away from the big bad Schwarz assassins once released. Youji came to with a mental nudge from Schuldig and frantically followed them.

Schuldig grinned and waved when they looked back to make sure they weren't followed. They'd catch up later. In fact, Brad had plans to make them permanent house pets. He wasn't too hot about that idea. Still, anything was better than Eszett and Brad's plans usually paid off for him. He hoped for Brad's sake they would this time too. Schuldig was very, very close to leaving.

The only thing stopping him was that Eszett would retaliate as soon as they defected.

Brad came up next, and he had the last kitten. Funny, really, how the other three never turned back for him. They would save him if they saw him, but as soon as he was out of sight, Abyssinian was out of their minds. If he had been a nicer man Schuldig would have felt bad for him, but Schuldig wasn't a nice man. He was a good looking one, but ultimately he was selfish and sadistic.

“He's alive, barely,” Schuldig said while he smirked at the older man. “You'd better get him some medical attention.”

Brad threw him a vicious look for giving an order. Schuldig rolled his eyes. “Want me to take him, then?” he challenged.

“Take the boys away before anyone can regroup. They will know we fucked them over soon enough,” Brad ordered instead.

“You heard him, boys,” Schuldig snapped at Nagi and Farfarello. “We're leaving. Daddy will catch up.”

Brad swam towards shore with the nearly lifeless body in tow. It made Schuldig more pissed that he was so gentle with the other redhead. He _wasn't_ in love with Brad, but they sometimes fucked out of convenience, and mutual attraction. They were there, they wanted sex, why go out and woo someone? It wasn't pretty or tender, it was often very close to fighting and just slightly above consensual. Still, while Crawford had the romantic sense of a feral, autistic psychopath he was a good lay. Very, very good.

But Schuldig was a jealous man.

It was Nagi's fault it had started anyway. Brad was Dad, and Schuldig was Mom. That's how he thought, how he labeled them in his head. Brad had been less than amused when Schuldig had told him, but Schuldig found it hilarious most days. Enough that he often made a point out of being extra doting. Not to mention, it was sort of a requirement to screw Dad. Brad had eventually been amused by that.

Nagi still had enough power left to float them all to the rocky shore. Schuldig bowed to him once he had his feet on the rocky ground. “Much appreciated.” For a brat who had been taught by a precog he wasn't a half bad kinetic.

Climbing up the bank was easy, but he cut his hands up slightly on the sharp rocks. This wasn't the fun type of beach where you lapped sun, no, this was the shitty type of beach where you died if you tripped on a slippery rock. The cold wind made his limbs numb and he was still wet and could taste salt water. Farfarello and Nagi kept close to him. Nagi was shivering, Farfarello looked calm and collected. They reached a nearby building and its parking lot just five minutes after leaving the water.

He fished car keys out of his pocket, leave it to fucking Eszett to have suits with zippered pockets, and unlocked a rental car parked nearby. They had ten strategically placed around the area, but Schuldig had grabbed the keys to the one where Brad had mentioned would most likely be the closest. “Sit in the back,” he barked.

Neither objected. Schuldig liked the brats, but he needed space before he hurt someone. Preferably Brad, but in a pinch he could make do with anyone. If they were out of sight he didn't mind them.

They had a lot of work to do, and Brad fucking up with Abyssinian would set them back. Schuldig muttered to himself as he drove off that _someone_ owed him a blowjob. If Brad was busy coddling the broken kitty cat then Schuldig had to pull his weight while he was gone.

Broken. He grinned to himself. Abyssinian was broken in so many ways now it was almost funny in and of itself. Normally it was just his mind and heart that was a messed up and torn up pieces of equipment. There wasn't even much fun in tormenting him, he did it so well on his very own.

They had noticed, the kitties, that he didn't do much to Ran. They just failed to see how fucked up he was. How desperately lonely. The fact that Ran hadn't killed himself already was because he needed to be alive to care for his sister. He was a sweet kid, nasty fucking temper, but sweet. Weiss could have hugged him once in a while and he would have gladly been their pet. Too bad, almost, that they had never looked below his surly act.

There was little traffic once he got away from the disaster area. The sun would rise soon, but it was still early enough that the commuters hadn't started clogging the roads too badly. He could keep a decent speed and not constantly slow or stop at congestions.

He hit the brakes sharply and stopped the car in the middle of the road when he felt something go missing. “Oh, fuck _you_!”

Several of the cars behind him honked angrily, but he barely noticed.

“What?” Nagi asked earnestly. Worried about Brad. Worried other telepaths might be after Schuldig.

“Abyssinian clocked out,” he said to no one. Mostly he had to say it out loud to make it stick. Apart from being a problem in Brad's timetable it annoyed him that one of his toys had died.

Brad was blocking him out like his life depended on it. It just might. Schuldig swore a long oath in his native German and then decided it didn't matter. He was one of the best operatives this side of Berlin. “We're proceeding according to plan. Oracle is blocking me, so he can either catch up or we fucking leave him.”

Surprisingly he found he meant it. He certainly didn't need Brad around. They both benefited from being on the same team, but they could easily part. He started the car again and drove off. He was tired, and he was hungry, and this was not how things should go. Still, before Nagi complained he yanked the heat up to max. _Fix what you can, worry about what to do._ He remembered his training perfectly. Hesitating and second guessing was what killed people.

He pulled up to an old safe house, one they had used before the youngest had joined. They were far out in the suburbs of Tokyo now, and a new team had this house. Schuldig knew for a fact that they were dead now. Friendly fire amid all the chaos, and all that. Oops.

“Safe House One, we're taking a laptop and a phone. No money. No weapons. No belongings. Touch nothing.”

The two youngest members of his team followed Schuldig to the house, but stayed outside. He never went back to the car when they had what they came for. He forced three strangers on the street to give him their money with a simple mind trick. He was so useful to have around, wasn't he? Almost a one-man team, though he liked having people around too much to truly go solo.

They walked all the way to Safe House Three. It was their home, of sorts. Until they would have been rotated to the next one. Well, no more of Eszett's schedules. No more of Eszett's rules.

He made sure they all cleaned up and changed their clothes. They took what weapons and possessions they could carry.

Getting jittery Schuldig didn't raid any other safe houses. He led the other two to a hotel in a shady part of town and checked in under a fake name. The staff was convinced he'd already paid and gave him the key to a room.

Once safe, relatively speaking, in the room he booted up the laptop and used it to log into Eszett's database under another account. He sent a fake report in from one of the idiots killed earlier. Then tossed the computer on the floor.

“Destroy it,” he ordered Nagi sharply.

The boy did it reluctantly, but still efficiently enough to not get scolded.

“Good. Get some rest,” he said softer. None of them had slept in a long time.

“There's only one bed,” Nagi said meekly.

“You can jerk off in the shower if you need privacy,” Schuldig pointed out. Nagi scowled at him, but Schuldig was not in a mood to be his mother. Not now. “Would you rather sleep in the alley?”

Farfarello tugged Nagi's sleeve. “Come on, we can just sleep with clothes on.”

“Privacy is overrated anyway,” Schuldig mumbled. He sought out Brad again and this time he wasn't hiding. He would have forced through if he had still stubbornly kept him out. Brad probably expected that. He was clever. He had learned how Schuldig worked. Being a good little telepath Schuldig sent him a short recap of the day's events and then went over Brad's mind to see what he'd missed.

Before he could stop to remember he sought out Abyssinian's mind, and was both pleased and surprised when he found it. He grinned a little. They all thought he was dead. The longer he stayed in the redhead's head, the more he noticed that something was wrong.

He had died. Died and was somehow now starting to live again. His brain operated some sort of talent on autopilot. Weirder things had happened. It would have explained Brad's interest if he knew there was a talent involved, but Brad didn't know.

Curled up on the bed Nagi and Farfarello were keeping a safe distance from each other. It _was_ a small bed, and Schuldig felt no urge to cuddle with them.

Brad knocked on the flimsy door an hour later, saving the couple upstairs from having a telepathy-induced break up. Schuldig made sure Brad was alone before opening. He trusted nobody right now. Brad had two heavy backpacks with him.

“He's alive. Abby cat. He's alive,” Schuldig said.

“Fuck you,” Brad said sullenly.

“You'd better get me in the mood first. And I do mean that in every sense of the word today.”

Brad glared.

“He _is_ alive. I'm guessing at some innate talent. It felt like it when I checked him after poking in your head.”

The American nodded and accepted it. Schuldig didn't lie to his team, it was a professional courtesy. “I need to -”

“Already did.” Schuldig punched him square in the jaw. “And I was ready to leave you and take the kids with me, so you had better start sucking up to me or I'm _gone_.”

Being angry was easier than being stressed out and upset. Or clingy. It did have its appeal though, clingyness. Eszett wasn't there to tell them emotional attachment was wrong.

Brad sat down on the desk in the room. He looked more like a twenty-something in jeans and a hoodie than in his suits. It made Schuldig realize he was in workout gear himself. He hadn't thought much about what he had picked before. That wasn't like him. He was stressed out and scared.

“Thank you,” Brad said quietly. They didn't apologize, and neither expected an apology.

Schuldig wanted pampering, one way or the other. He still hadn't eaten. “I'm hungry.”

“Fix this and I'll go out and buy food,” Brad said meekly and held out his hand. Schuldig had forgotten that the dainty secretary had shot at him. It was little more than a graze but it looked ugly.

Poking the wound made Brad hiss. “Fine.”

Schuldig took the first aid-kit from one of the backpacks Brad had brought. Taking care of wounds was almost meditative. Usually they were only cuddly when they cared for each others wounds.

It had to be emotionless, he knew, because Eszett disliked affairs. Sex, no problem! Emotional attachment? Not okay. Send in someone to adjust personalities. He had done it to other local teams under orders from above. He was twitchy about love affairs for that reason.

He finished up and made sure the bandaging would allow enough movement. Hands were tricky. You needed them too much. Once he started cleaning the supplies and trash up Brad got up and left.

Emotional attachment.

Schuldig knew they were overdue a visit from Eszett's shrink team. They would have cleaned up their attachments into more professional bonds. But there had been so much to do with the Elders and their ritual that Schwarz now was over a year overdue. It made things more human between them all. And now Eszett was as good as gone. Schuldig sighed softly. He hoped they weren't too damaged to enjoy the freedom.

Brad was gone for half an hour before he returned with two large bags.

The kids slept on, safe in their belief that as long as either Brad or Schuldig was around they would be fine. Farfarello slept like the dead after a good fight and Nagi was strung out from using his talent so much.

At least Brad was smart enough to find one of his favorite foods. Schuldig sat down on the floor, with his back to the wall so that he could rest a little. Brad sat down next to him, close enough that they were touching. Shared body heat.

“We need to figure where we can sleep. We both need it,” Schuldig said with a drawn out sigh. It was part suggestion and part order. Sometimes people wondered who led Schwarz, other times they snickered and called Brad and Schuldig married because they argued so much. Because Brad gave in.

“The idiot mob we deal with offered when I asked. They just need time to clean one of the places they rent out. Maybe three more hours,” Brad said tiredly while he poked his food.

So there was someone homeless now because of them. Cheers.

Schuldig finished his food and started in on the soda Brad had given him. He preferred juice, but fast food places rarely kept the good ones in stock.

He telepathically checked up on Kritiker's secretaries. Leaders, actually, but dainty women in short skirts weren't meant to be taken seriously. “Manx have fixed a hotel for Weiss. Kritiker won't be able to fund itself for long and she knows it, so anytime you're ready.”

“Good.”

“You sure about this?” Schuldig turned to watch Brad's profile as he ate. “Honestly? Can we do this?”

“Yes.” Brad sighed softly. “Listen, it'll work out. I know we've had a shit time lately, and that's not even including the recent crap...”

“I expected this to be more glamorous somehow. Wanted fugitive, and all that.”

“Want me to get some tension out of you?” Brad asked.

Schuldig leaned forward, supported his arms on his knees, and eyed Brad warily. “I am _not_ that easy,” he hissed.

“Look, I'm not in the mood either.” Brad reached out with his unwounded left hand and rubbed between Schuldig's shoulder blades. “Trust me a little longer. Please? I know things haven't gone smoothly and I need you. Alright?”

“Alright.” Schuldig fiddled with his clothes restlessly, before pulling a gun out and checking the damage over. Water and guns was a shitty combo.

Brad handed him another. A dry, clean, loaded and with the safety off. Schuldig sighed in relief. He never felt safe unless there was a gun nearby.

“We'll be fine,” Brad assured. “It won't be easy, but we'll be fine.”

 

 


	2. Meet Your New Team

The three of them were driven in an unmarked van from the hotel where they had spent a week recovering to a rundown area far from the center of the city. Ken knew they were being merged with another team, but that was all the information they had. Usually Omi could get information out of Manx, but not this time.

Ken looked around and wondered what would be expected of them. The flower shop had been cozy, not like a proper home, but the building was charming. All he could see were old factories and warehouses.

“You've been longer in Kritiker, so one of you will be in charge. We were thinking about Omi, but it's up to you three to decide,” Manx said outside their destination.

Of course, the star pupil would be their choice. Ken thought about Aya and sighed. Aya was gone.

Omi looked between his two friends. “I wouldn't mind.”

Youji seemed indifferent, and Ken shrugged. “Sure,” Ken said. It wasn't like he would be good enough at it himself. Aya would have been. Aya could make anyone follow his lead, it was just how he was.

“Let's go inside then,” Manx said.

They went in, finding the inside more modern than the outside. Ken liked the mix between factory and modern house.

Schwarz was seated in a couch. Rather than the usual suits, they were in casual clothes. It made them look younger, softer. Not like the lethal killers Weiss knew them to be. The youngest looked nervous and twitchy.

“Before you object, I know this is unorthodox, but I trust you will all be professional and make it work,” Manx said before she left the three members of Weiss frozen in shock.

Thankfully none of the rival teams member looked cocky or smirked. Farfarello looked bored. Ken warily eyed Farfarello, but he seemed so sane and normal that Ken soon relaxed and walked up to them.

He bowed like the polite boy he had been raised to be and said, “I'm Ken Hidaka.”

Oracle rose first and bowed smoothly. “Brad Crawford.”

Mastermind mimicked his leader. “Schuldig.”

Farfarello stayed seated, just doing a gesture with his head in acknowledgment of Ken's existence.

Prodigy rose and bowed when it was clear Farfarello wouldn't. “Nagi Naoe.”

Youji came over and said his name, then Omi woke up from his frozen state and followed suit while his eyes were transfixed on Mastermind. Ken held no hope he would be able to pronounce that other name correctly.

“Manx brought two jobs yesterday,” Brad pointed to the files on the coffee table. “We can brief you, or you can read them yourselves.”

Omi looked panicked. He must not have expected missions so soon, but as soon as she had told them there would be no cover, no flower shop, Ken had guessed it would mean a lot more wet work. Or leg work. Or just plain work.

“Do we need to settle anything, Omittchi?” Schuldig asked. His voice sounded sweet and friendly, but his eyes were mocking. “Are you afraid of us? Afraid of... me?”

Ken's brain did some quick maths. “Maybe we should, we'll have to sleep here. With you lot. It might be good to get shit cleared up.”

Youji cursed. “Oh Hell no, I'm not sleeping here.”

“We won't hurt you in your sleep,” Brad said. “Or at all, if you can refrain from being immature.”

When he placed a hand on Schuldig's shoulder the younger man got a softer expression on his face. Ken wasn't too sure about Mastermind being his house mate, but that guy? Whoever Schuldig was when he didn't work, he seemed friendlier.

“Right, so we don't hurt you and you don't hurt us and nobody dies,” Ken nodded.

“Sit, I'm sure you all have questions for us,” Brad suggested.

“Why did you join Kritiker?” Youji asked as he sat down.

“Because, in case it escaped your notice, we just fucked over Eszett. They're not gone and we have a deal with Kritiker to help out as long as we get help taking out the rest of Eszett.”

“What were you going to do with Aya's sister?” Omi asked.

“Wake her up,” Schuldig scoffed with an eye roll. “Brad thought she would make a nice peace offering.”

“Why did Ouka have to die?”

“My bad,” Farfarello grinned.

“They were punished for it,” Nagi bit out. “Shit happens.”

“And Tot?” Omi asked with narrowed eyes.

“It happens,” Nagi said calmly. “Abyssinian pulled me out of the rubble that night.”

“What?” Ken whispered. Aya had helped a member of Schwarz?

“He was hoping I would tell him where his sister was, I think. We had _orders_ to take her, to keep her safe until the ritual, and you do not disobey Eszett. I told him I wouldn't help and that no one would trade, I'm not worth that much.”

“Did he hurt you?” Youji asked.

“No.”

“Ran's not really the type to torture,” Mastermind said, “he likes clean kills.”

“He knew we weren't out to hurt you all,” Nagi said softly.

Ken snorted. “Kill us. Hurt was on the menu plenty.” He remembered Aya talking about that.

“Love taps,” Farfarello murmured. “You don't wanna know what I can do when I really put effort into it.”

Ken noticed that Mastermind had leaned a little on Brad.

“We got here an hour before you,” Brad said. “There's six bedrooms. We've taken three, so you can have one each.”

“So, who's sharing?” Omi asked. He liked to organize, Ken knew. It was an annoying habit. Nobody needed their towels sorted by color.

Mastermind hugged Nagi. “Nagi's with me.”

“How about Nagi and I share instead?” Omi suggested. “We're more similar in age and I really, really, _really_ do not think you should have a minor anywhere near your room.”

Ken sighed. “Yeah, accuse the guy of being a creep, that'll start everyone off on the right foot.”

“He's my legal guardian, and considering all the times he's protected me from Eszett I'd say it's pretty safe to say he wouldn't hurt me, in any way,” Nagi said pointedly. “But you know what? Fine. I'll share with you if it makes you shut your ugly face.”

“Smooth Omi, real smooth,” Ken muttered.

“Which one of you was appointed leader, anyway?” Brad asked.

Ken groaned. “Omi, of course. Kritiker has trained him for it.” He got up and went over to a window, rested his forehead on the cool glass. He wasn't happy about the turn of events, but did everyone have to make things worse? “Look, you guys probably hate this as much as we do, so can everyone just try to be professional like Manx asked?”

 

 


	3. Guilt And Ice

Ran woke up with a headache. The room was far too bright once he reluctantly opened his eyes. He sat up and cradled his head. Everything hurt to some degree, but he felt more sore than wounded.

“Oh! Don't move! Doctor!” A female voice shrieked.

It didn't do his head any favors. He looked up and saw Aya. It was a hospital room. He knew those, knew the smell, the dry air, the dull colors.

“Aya, calm down,” he croaked. It was disorientating to see her for some reason he couldn't grasp. She looked over to him with that worried expression she got when she wasn't sure what to do. “Aya, seriously. I don't need a doctor.”

“You are _not_ immortal. You will let the doctors check you over!” she demanded.

He relaxed on the bed. “Fine. Where's your mom and dad?” The words weren't out of his mouth before he remembered that they were dead. Aya had been in a coma. “Right.”

Aya nodded once. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

She laughed nervously. “You're the one who's hurt!”

It took a few minutes for two doctors to come rushing in. They poked and prodded at him in that way doctors did.

“What happened?” he asked. His memory was still mostly uncooperative. It came in bursts of clarity muddled with long moments of nothingness.

“You came in with a nasty skull fracture, too many broken bones to count and no pulse. We placed you in the morgue, after trying to revive you without success,” one of the doctors explained politely.

“There were a lot of dead bodies after the incident,” the other filled in. “Terrible business that.”

“A hospital employee noticed you breathing on your own several hours later. Most of your bones were healed.” The doctor looked to the girl in the room. “Your sister insisted we not do anything, just allow you to rest.”

“What happened?”

“The building you were in collapsed. Manx got me and Sakura out,” Aya said softly. “You woke up before, but you weren't all there...”

“What do you remember?” The taller of the two doctors asked.

“Drowning, or at least inhaling too much water.” He didn't tell them that he remembered more. That he remembered Schwarz doing a sharp u-turn when the building crumbled and rushing to save Weiss. Why was anyone's guess.

He remembered Prodigy picking up Ken and Omi with his talent and getting them out. Schuldig had done something to knock Youji out and disappeared with him. He had been too stubborn to listen to Oracle.

The doctors asked him a lot of questions, enlisting Aya's help, to make sure he was lucid.

“You really scared me,” she said when they had left.

“I'll be fine.”

“Yes, yes, you'll be like new. Still. You were _dead_!”

Ran grunted. “Where are you living?”

“Kritiker is watching me and Sakura. Manx said they'd promised you.”

They were safe then. He was sure Manx would try to either recruit them or hang them over his head somehow, but even Kritiker's leash games were comfortably familiar in their own way. “Her old boss did.”

“It's not too bad.” Aya twisted her upper body back and forth. “Say, there's been this foreigner asking about you. I wasn't sure he was a friend. Sakura doesn't like him. Really obviously dyed orange hair, tall, skinny. Cute. Really cute.”

“What did he want?”

“Just to know where you were and such. I said you weren't around...”

“Just as well.” Schuldig had probably gotten everything out of her anyway.

“He seemed sincere,” Aya said seriously.

Ran shrugged. He wasn't in the mood to argue. Aya stayed another three hours. She kept prattling on about what had happened and this, that, and whatever else she could come up with. She left when visiting hours were over.

He relaxed a little more when he was finally alone and the surroundings got more quiet.

Schwarz bothered him. One one hand they were more skilled than they let on, on another they were more devious than anybody had guessed. They'd sold out their own organization. They likely had more than enough reason to. Eszett wasn't a cuddly, cozy, feelgood gathering of friendly souls. He knew that.

 

 


	4. Plus One

“We're getting the last kitten soon,” Brad told Schuldig.

The younger man sat up straighter. “Fujimiya?” he asked for clarification.

Brad nodded once in reply. His head hurt slightly, but the longer visions were a dual edged sword – more details on the event, more pathways to make it real. The split-second ones were easier since they were almost set in stone.

“Oh, that is a naughty vision you had.” Schuldig grinned.

“I didn't feel you go in?”

“That's my secret; I'm always in.”

Brad was about to scold him when he stopped short. Schuldig obviously wasn't causing trouble, just being his usual curious self. “I'd rather you weren't,” he said instead.

Schuldig shrugged. Not repentant, but disappointed.

“What?”

“I'm a telepath,” Schuldig said with a frown. “It's what I do. What I am.”

“Yes, but we don't allow Nagi to bring the house down.”

“No, but you let him use his gift instead of manually flipping light switches or using the television remote. There's a difference between me having a link open and me manipulating your thoughts.”

Brad was about to argue, but stopped himself again. Schuldig was loyal.

“Yes, I am. So trust me a little. If I attack you I'll kill you quickly. You're a sneaky bitch, Brad, and I like that about you. There's no way I'd intentionally screw you over and risk us being enemies.”

“I grew up in an Eszett family, same as you. Trust is not exactly something we were taught.”

“Not true. Eszett teaches everyone to trust precogs and distrust telepaths.” Schuldig sat more casually in the chair he had dragged in earlier in the week. “We're the stepchildren among talents and at the same time everyone wants a telepath on their team.”

“We never talked like this before,” Brad said. He wasn't sure what to reply. Schuldig was right. He usually was.

“We fuck, Brad. We bicker a bit. It only just dawned on you now that we don't actually talk?”

“Do you want to?”

Schuldig shrugged. Casual to the uninitiated, but Brad had spent enough time with the German to see the hesitation in his eyes.

“We're supposed to be free. So. I suppose nobody will punish us?”

“Except you.”

Brad sat down on the armrest of the colorful chair Schuldig lounged in. It was a stuffed and soft thing. “I like violence as much as you do, but there's a time and place for it.”

“And what time is it now?”

Brad thought about it. They had to stay on their toes to beat Eszett, but they would benefit from being a close knit unit. They couldn't be that if they were paranoid about each other. “There's no point in bringing Eszett down if we stay the way they wanted us to be.”

He stood up and held a hand out to Schuldig. There was nothing awkward or hesitant about Schuldig's movements when he allowed Brad to pull him to his feet. They helped each other enough on missions to be comfortable with that. But Brad didn't let go, he kept pulling the younger man closer until they were chest to chest, then he wrapped his arms around Schuldig's waist.

Before Schuldig had a chance to stop him Brad kissed him. He had wanted to do that every time they had played, but he hadn't wanted to risk it. Sex was one thing, Eszett cared little about it, but emotions were not supposed to exist. Schuldig shied away from affection. Always had. Yet he also seemed to thrive under what little he allowed.

Schuldig broke the kiss abruptly. “So what's the deal?” he asked softly. “I _know_ you'll want the other redhead too.”

“You don't?”

“Tch.” Schuldig leaned his head against Brad's chest. “He's pretty enough. I don't wanna be second best.”

Brad nipped his ear. “No, you always did like to be special,” he whispered.

“Damned right.”

“If things turn out they way I want them to, we'll all be together, the three of us.”

“And I get what out of that arrangement?”

Brad roughly pushed the younger man back into the chair and held a hand over his heart with a steady pressure to keep him down. Schuldig wasn't a push-over and if you wanted him to submit you had to make sure he knew you were stronger. Or so he'd thought. Maybe he was wrong.

Schuldig relaxed a little when Brad used his free hand to open his pants with gentle fingers, he even helped get them off. Brad still kept him pushed into the chair. Bending down so they could kiss, Brad let go so he wouldn't press too hard on the ribcage. “You get twice the attention, for one.”

“We don't have lube,” Schuldig reminded him, not terribly impressed by his tempting.

“Don't need it.”

He didn't pause at the wild panic in those blue eyes, just slid down and took him in his mouth. Schuldig would learn to trust him as a lover too. It stung a little to scare him like that. He had never wanted to hurt Schuldig.

The other man was loud no matter what he did, and sex wasn't an exception. Brad didn't mind the moans. So what if the world knew? So what if the team knew? A part of him liked that, because then they would know to stay well away from what was his.

“I never thought you'd do that,” Schuldig said quietly, slightly short of breath.

Brad let the throbbing flesh slide slowly from his mouth and started stroking it in his fist. “Why not? I'm not entirely selfish.”

He had never managed to raise just one eyebrow, but Schuldig often did and he did it now.

Brad chuckled. The younger man seemed more at ease now, slender hands toying with his hair. Brad liked it. He complied with the soft tugs and swallowed Schuldig's cock again.

He wasn't particular about sex. As long as it felt good he was all for it. It wasn't something he advertised and he could well understand Schuldig's surprise with how their previous trysts had gone down. Brad had topped him more out of a need to feel some control over his teammate than anything else.

When Schuldig seemed close he slowed the pace and focused on just playing with the foreskin. He didn't have any himself, his parents had been Americans and the common thing was to circumcise boys. He liked how Schuldig mewled and cursed at him under his breath. Precognition was useful for many things, one of them was knowing he had enough time to say “you're mine” before deep-throating. Schuldig came with a shout.

Brad let the soft cock slide out slowly and then swallowed what little ended up in his mouth. He knew Schuldig was clean, and the taste didn't bother him. Schuldig ate healthily enough to taste a bit more sweet than bitter. He kissed Schuldig's trembling belly, lapped his navel suggestively before he rose up. “Come on,” he urged, “straighten up and I'll pay for dinner.”

“Why?” Schuldig asked even as he complied with the request.

“Because I want to get away from this nut-house for a few hours.”

Schuldig shoved him into the wall. Brad frowned, but didn't retaliate. “ _No_ ,” Schuldig said firmly, eyes hard, “you don't get to tell me I'm yours one minute and play casual the next.”

“Drama queen,” Brad chided gently. He kissed Schuldig on the lips and then shook his head when Schuldig kept glaring. “I'm not playing you, I'm taking you out on a proper date. If I didn't know you disliked flowers I'd buy you some.”

Schuldig nodded his consent. His blue eyes were uncertain. Brad wasn't used to seeing the emotions so clearly on him, but he didn't mind at all. He hugged the shorter man tightly.

Independent, high-maintenance and male wasn't what he had thought he'd go for, but he was drawn to Schuldig. Enough that he got jealous when the other had sex with strangers. He wanted to keep him, almost possessively.

Schuldig nuzzled his chest, then broke free and dressed himself again.

Their shoes made little sound against the concrete floor. They weren't being sneaky, it just came naturally after so long. A lot of things came naturally, like picking shoes that made as little noise as possible and always having a weapon close.

Brad could see Farfarello stalking the three Weiss, but wasn't going to care until they came back. The two teams had been living together for just over a week and as long as no one died he allowed them to settle in however they pleased. Besides, Kritiker had put Omi in charge. Thus logic dictated that Omi was the one who would have to keep the peace.

They didn't have funds yet for cars, so they walked. Kritiker had swallowed the bait for three reasons.

One, they couldn't beat Schwarz.

Two, they desperately needed trained field agents.

Three, Brad had hinted that he could fix their money problem. And he would, just as soon as everyone realized Omi was too immature to run the operation. The kid might be wise beyond his years, but he still wasn't more than a teenager who took his friends into consideration too much.

Schuldig surprised him by holding his hand, and he surprised himself by so readily allowing it. They were housed in a beaten down part of town that mostly housed industries and small workshops. The previous owner of the place they lived in had converted it from an old factory.

The thirty minute walk was nice. They had scouted the area on the first day and checked out the local wildlife, so to speak. There weren't a lot of people living close by, but the workers were all over the place at all hours of the day.

The restaurant they often went to was a little on the posher side, but still cheap enough that it had enough business. There was also a café they liked. Weiss had settled on one of the closest joints on the first day and stuck to it. Trying out all the places to find the best one didn't seem their thing.

It was momentarily awkward when they were seated and waited for the food.

“Do you regret it, breaking away with me?” Brad asked.

“I miss being professional. I feel like I have to babysit,” Schuldig said. “We were the top team.”

Brad grinned. “We still are, even with the idiots in tow.”

“That says more about Kritiker than anything about our accomplishments.”

“All in due time. It'll get better when Fujimiya gets here.”

“And Mamoru?”

“Nobody heeds his orders. He'll realize that very soon. He's a decent tactician, but he lacks the balls to lead. Fujimiya is who makes Weiss work for that reason. Kudou isn't a leader, and Hidaka is happy to just be a pawn.”

“Ken surprised me that first day,” Schuldig admitted.

Brad nodded. “Mm. Perhaps he's more than a dumb jock.”

“If there'd never been any Eszett, what would you have done?” Schuldig asked.

Brad tensed, before forcing himself to relax. That had been a no-no topic. “Made money off the stock market, probably. Been bored stiff. You?”

“Caused trouble. I like kids. I like babying Nagi. I never thought I would.”

“You make a good mom.”

Schuldig huffed. “I'm a shit mom, and you're a shit dad.”

“Farfarello is getting worse.”

“Physically, yes,” Schuldig sighed. “I just don't want to kill him.”

“Don't. Not yet.”

Schuldig glared.

“It's not like he suffers,” Brad argued.

Schuldig rolled his eyes. “If you could heal him, would you?”

“No, there's no point,” Brad said honestly. “He'd get hurt again and it would just be a never-ending circle. He doesn't care enough to appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, if we find a decent fucking healer I'm calling dibs.”

The waiter arrived with their food and placed it in front of them.

“Can I get my cat?” Schuldig asked after eating half his food in silence.

“No, not yet.” Brad should have expected the request. Schuldig liked his pet, but she was safer where she was.

“You're the worst.”

“I'll make it up to you.”

 

 


	5. Sleepyhead

He was tired. Schuldig loathed having to do the work of seven people. Six, really. Brad was pulling his own weight. Instead of driving home he parked at the hospital and used his gift to locate Ran. It took him less time than getting a meal at a drive through. He was so useful, wasn't he?

It was late. Or early. Ran was asleep either way when Schuldig sneaked inside the room. The girl was not there, but he didn't really care about her. She was interesting as a prop, nothing more. She was something to torment Ran with, but he didn't feel like tormenting at the moment.

“Hey,” he poked Ran and gave him a mental wake-up-call just to be sure.

Ran woke up slowly, and then just looked at him.

“Your team sucks, did you know that? Brad had some idiot idea about switching sides and now I'm stuck babysitting your lame ass team while they try to do missions,” Schuldig ranted. Even he thought it sounded more like whining.

“Because you guys fucked Eszett over?” Ran frowned. He was still wrapping his mind around Schuldig sitting on his bed and not throwing threats around.

Schuldig huffed. “Dumbest idea ever.”

“Why help then?” Ran asked. “It's not like you stopped us from killing the Elders. You practically gave us a written invitation.”

“That's not the issue. It's defecting after the fact. If we had offed them and given a good reason it would have been fine. But nooo. No. Nein. We simply fucking had to go off to finish the job. I don't get Brad. He could have easily just changed Eszett. It wouldn't have left me stuck in some assassin playground with a bunch of rookies.” Schuldig got up and paced the small room. He wasn't sure why he was here, but captive audiences appealed to him. “I felt you die.”

Ran laughed uneasily. “Yeah? Me too.”

Schuldig went back to the bed and squeezed in next to Ran. He wasn't injured. They were just observing him now. Schuldig excepted the attack the other man made, but Ran had put no force into it. It was reflexive.

When he was comfortable they were all but embracing. Ran scowled, then laughed because he wasn't sure what to think. “You're weird.”

“I'm tired as fuck. I have to make all the jobs go down smoothly. Missions. Whatever. The point is, I need you to get over your _whatever_ and start working again.” Schuldig was almost sure he made no sense. He was also sure the bed wasn't as comfy as he thought it was.

“Tell me your name and I'll let you sleep here,” Ran offered.

Schuldig huffed. As if he couldn't force Ran to do what he wanted. “No one calls me by name.”

“So?”

He felt more tired somehow. Warm. Ran had a gift then, and he could use it on others. Schuldig sighed, not caring at the moment, and closed his eyes. “Call me Alex.”

There was a lot of annoying sunlight in the room when he woke up. He hissed and burrowed against Ran to make the brightness go away. Something was forcing him awake. Something poked his brain and made it want to – what? He suddenly made the connection between the phone buzzing in his pocket and the reality outside. It had quieted while he fished it out of his clothes. “56 missed calls,” he noted, still dazed from sleeping.

“Your boyfriend seems the jealous type.”

“Huh. And yet he wants to fuck both of us,” Schuldig muttered.

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard correctly. Brad has a thing for redheads. Whatever. I should go and face the music.”

Ran held him tight then. Schuldig looked at the arms around his chest. “Stay,” Ran said. “You've just slept four hours.”

His gift picked up random thoughts and a feeling of loneliness Ran didn't want back. While he was deciding his body made the decision for him, and Schuldig fell asleep again. He barely felt Ran take the phone from him.

He expected Brad when the door slammed open. The sharp order of “get up” was too feminine, though. Schuldig opened one eye and saw the fiery woman he hated the most right now.

“Fuck off, bimbo,” Schuldig muttered.

“You have two hours to get ready for your next mission, Mastermind,” Manx snapped.

Out of spite he gave her a headache. “Okay mummy,” he said sweetly.

He hovered over Ran, their noses nearly touching, and whispered softly: “get your ass out of bed, Abyssinian. There's work to be done and if you can walk you can damned well get your ass over to the safe house.”

Then he left. Manx was still cradling her head and it made him smile.

 

 


	6. Welcome Home

The doctors had reluctantly given him the all clear three days after Schuldig had spent the night. They couldn't find any medical reason to keep him, and they had tried their hardest to find one. He had been allowed to check out and went with Manx. After having only Aya as company he was ready to go too. She was sweet and he was glad she was fine again, but he didn't want to drag her into his own bloodstained world. She should be happy. He wasn't sure he was able to anymore.

Manx explained in the car en route to the safe house that during the time he had been out of commission Kritiker had changed a little, and for some reason Schwarz had joined up. She was vague about the details. Kritiker had merged Weiss and Schwarz into one team – still called Weiss. It made Schuldig's tired ramblings make more sense.

They were housed in the outskirts of Tokyo close to the ocean in an old, small factory building which had at some point been remade into a home by some couple with more money than common sense. Kritiker had gotten it cheap when the owners had moved abroad for work. It was a lot better than most housing options Kritiker had thrown his way.

Manx had given him a quick tour while the others gathered. There were six bedrooms, a really small kitchen, two bathrooms and the large common area. The overhead traveling crane had been left as a quirky detail by the previous owner. It even worked.

He toyed with a ballpoint pen, a pen he had carried with him since Manx had made him sign a new contract, while he watched the others lounge around in over-sized couches. It felt good to hold something while Schwarz was close by, even if it was borderline useless. Not that a sharp sword was terribly useful against them either.

From what Ran understood Omi and Nagi shared a room, while the others had one each. That meant he had to share with one of them. It wasn't optimal, he liked his solitude. Or he had. He hadn't enjoyed being alone in his hospital bed. He'd even initiated conversation with people on the ward.

“He'll need a room,” Manx told the gathered assassins.

“You can sleep in my room, Ayan,” Youji leered.

“No,” Brad said immediately. He didn't elaborate, and it had a final feel to it. Ran looked over to the American, but averted his gaze before he could get caught up in a staring contest. He didn't like Brad Crawford and he never won over him. Possibly because he never won over him.

“He's not sharing a room with me,” Ken stated. He was wearing jeans and an over-sized hoodie, and he had let his hair grow for a while. Ran just noticed how long it had really gotten now that they hadn't seen each other in a while. “We'd just end up strangling each other.”

Ran said nothing, but he agreed with Ken. They were able to work together, but they needed too much time away from the other to be so close.

“Hey! You all made me and Nagi share! Why are you all so fanatical now?” Omi asked.

“The way I recall it,” Schuldig muttered darkly, “that was your choice, boy. Him sharing a room with his legal guardian wasn't good enough for you.”

“I really don't think that's for the best that you have a minor in your room,” Omi said.

Nagi looked a little annoyed at Omi. He didn't seem inclined to talk either. His talent was the most destructive, from what they had seen, but he was still just a young teen. If Schuldig was his guardian and they got along, why was it a problem?

Ran looked over to Farfarello when he snickered. “I'd offer, but survival is not guaranteed.”

“Fujimiya will bunk with Schuldig. Neither of them is a minor so I'm sure that won't be a problem,” Brad said in an amused voice.

Their eyes met then and Ran was surprised to notice that Brad, while adamant, lacked the chill he normally exuded. Brown eyes shouldn't be as cold as Brad's normally were, and now that it was missing Ran wondered why. He had always felt like a rabbit staring down a wolf. Now he felt oddly safe.

“That's just cruel,” Youji lamented. “We don't need Ayan brainwashed. I still say he should bunk with me.”

Whatever Schuldig replied it sounded like it would be censored on television. Ran didn't know enough German to fully comprehend it. Slang and curse words weren't taught in the night classes he had attended. “Old goat?” Ran mumbled.

Schuldig waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Your German needs vast improvements. Also, just so you know, I can brainwash just fine from a distance.”

“Are we still good for the mission?” Manx ignored everyones bickering to ask Brad. Clearly he was in charge.

Brad gave a curt nod. “I don't tolerate failure.”

Ran considered rolling his eyes, but then he thought better of it. He wasn't that childish and chances were Brad was good at leading a team. It would be stupid to be petty just because Brad had pitted his team against Weiss in the past. Just because Ran hated losing.

“You're sitting out for now,” Brad told him firmly. “Schuldig can show you where to sleep.”

“Come on, Kitty.” Schuldig walked towards the bedrooms and waved for Ran to follow. “Your stuff is boxed up, and you can go through it later. There is a color system to the towels in the bathroom cabinets and some other things, because Brad is OCD like that. You are purple, do _try_ to remember that. You wash your towels yourself. We have a laundry room in the basement. This is our room.”

Schuldig stopped outside an open door and leaned on the door frame. Ran stepped inside and looked around. His senses prickled at having his back to the telepath.

The room's ceiling opened to a small loft that wasn't easily spotted until you were inside the room, but it wasn't used for anything from what he could see. The closet seemed to be built into the wall. The boxes Schuldig had mentioned were stacked in a corner of the room. There was a bed, two different colored hampers and that was that. He assumed Schuldig's color was blue.

“Brad warned me as soon as we moved in that I'd get you as a roommate so I haven't done anything here, the furniture came with the place when Kritiker bought it. We'll be sharing the bed, but that's nothing new. I'll be gone all of tonight anyway. If Brad's plan holds we'll all be back by four in the morning. If you want to sleep in shifts, set the alarm. We can figure something out after I've slept some, then go shopping.”

“All I need is a place to sleep and store possessions in.”

“And hide. Let's not forget hiding.”

Ran shrugged. Schuldig of all people was not the person he had expected to be considerate. “I can hide on the roof.”

“Sure,” Schuldig shrugged. He started toying with a lock of his bright hair. It must have been freshly dyed to be such a vivid orange. Schuldig looked into his eyes for a second too long. His eyes were a dark blue color. Like a deep ocean. It felt familiar to feel him use his gift to sort through memories. It always felt a little warm and cozy, but at the same time oily. Sticky almost. “I wonder how many lives you have left kitty cat,” the telepath murmured softly.

“I don't know how it works. How are Weiss and Schwarz working together?” He decided he might as well get some details on the new team. And he wanted Schuldig to stop reading his mind so intently now that he had gotten the information he wanted.

Schuldig grinned and retreated, but he left something there. “Well, they sometimes unite in their dislike of me,” was the airy reply. Ran figured it would make Brad look like a better and safer option despite being the more dangerous one. “Careful kitty, I can hear you.”

“You can read minds?” Ran asked with feigned shock. “I never knew.”

“Hiss, kitty cat, hiss,” Schuldig curled his fingers to make them look like claws and playfully batted the air between them. “We still mostly work as two separate teams so we don't have any accidental fatalities, but our fearless leader seems to want to make it one team undivided under his lead.”

Ran lightly swatted at one of his hands only to have Schuldig grab it. “ _Why_ are Schwarz working with Kritiker?”

“The Oracle had a vision. Where he goes, we follow. If he says Weiss will be our buddies and not our dinner, then that's how it goes.” Schuldig stepped closer, close enough to let their breath mingle. When Ran brought up his other hand Schuldig grabbed that as well. His grip was hard enough that Ran didn't even attempt to get loose, but not painful.

“What does he need us for this time? The Elders are fish food.” Ran noted they were the same height, give or take a centimeter or two.

“Maybe you should ask the Oracle that? I'm just a lowly minion,” Schuldig whispered softly. “Besides, I know what he wants you for...”

Ran raised an eyebrow. Mastermind wasn't ' _just_ ' anything. That caused an amused grin from the foreigner. He should talk to Brad, but he could wait until after this mission they were doing. He doubted there was time to do it now.

“I'll throw you a fish, kitty cat,” Schuldig said in a soft voice, “if you play nice, I will too. Unlike the others you feel me when I use telepathy on you, so you will know if I try anything.”

“I think I took a left somewhere and fell down a rabbit hole. Sure. Just because I feel you doesn't mean I know what it is you're up to.”

Schuldig laughed in his throat. “Hey, I'll be the Cheshire Cat.”

That made Ran's lips twitch into a smile despite how uneasy he felt. “What was that you called Youji?”

Schuldig stepped closer still and placed his lips right by Ran's ear. “A horny ram,” he whispered. “If you're interested he's just down the hall.”

“I don't like him that way,” Ran objected and jerked slightly. Schuldig would just read the thought even if he didn't speak it. He still felt the light touch of whatever was still in his mind, and he knew it would stay there until Schuldig removed it. He worried his lower lip. “But you don't strike me as terribly prude or conservative either.”

They were cheek to cheek. Schuldig nuzzled him like a cat would. “If you decide to throw yourself at me I would be inclined to accept the offer. Just know that I'm screwing Brad, and I don't plan on stopping anytime soon. I'm getting mine. Brad stopped Youji from being your roommate because he feels a little hesitant... trusting the tomcat.”

His hands were let go.

“Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a rapist. Unlike Youji I don't try to strangle my bedmates.”

Ran toyed with the pen, not sure what to make of Schuldig. He had an agenda, he always did, but he seemed friendlier than Ran was used to. Something about his eyes lacking their cold, same as with Brad, as if whatever he was up to was not the usual fare Weiss suffered. “I don't believe you about him, but I'll play along.”

Schuldig placed a hand on his shoulder. “It was never personal for us. You four were just caught in the crossfire.”

He figured it was an apology of sorts, and likely the only one he would ever get. “Alright.”

It was forgiveness, of a sort, and the only kind he was willing to offer. Schuldig nuzzled him again.

“What was that for?” he asked when Schuldig stepped back.

Schuldig smiled. Not a smirk or grin, a smile. “You are so lonely. I need to get going now.” He took the pen from Ran and scribbled a number on Ran's bare forearm before he could react. “For emergency stuff only, that phone will be destroyed as soon as the mission is over. Brad will give you our numbers later. Rest up, kitty cat. We don't tolerate slack.”

Ran took the pen when Schuldig held it out. The foreigner turned and started walking out of the room. “Do your best,” he said quietly. For some reason he felt drawn to Schuldig, and it had nothing to do with mental tampering. He knew that much about how telepathy felt.

Schuldig whipped around. He laughed, a surprised but delighted sound. “I always do!” he proclaimed confidently.

 

 


	7. Knockout

He heard Schuldig's laugh as the man came back alone from his room. Thankfully for Aya, that had been a friendly laugh. The foreigner had smiled softly to himself, but dropped it before he was back in the room. Ken frowned. “What are you up to?”

Schuldig grinned cockily, but he still wasn't back to his professional persona, “nothing.”

Brad continued loading bullets into magazines and checking the guns for flaws.

“You hurt him, you fucking die,” Youji seethed.

“Hey, it's not like he begged to stay with you...” Schuldig's mostly neutral face morphed into a wicked smirk.

Ken quietly wondered if Aya wasn't better off with Schuldig. Youji had been off for a while now. They all were. He wasn't sure he trusted himself most days. Schuldig on the other hand was, if not happy then content with himself. He made sure Nagi did his schoolwork, and he was easy to talk to as long as you were civil.

Ken saw Aya walk back towards them. He smiled when Aya looked his way. “You okay?”

Aya nodded, but it looked strained, too stiff. There was never any use trying to talk to Aya about emotions or question him further, he'd just get pissy and start a fight. “Don't hide my soccer stuff again,” he said instead.

Aya shot him a glare that clearly said “that was just once”, then found a wall to lean on and ignored them all. Well, at least no one could claim Aya had changed much.

Brad handed Schuldig a loaded gun and a few magazines. Clips, the uninitiated called them. Ken knew better even though he rarely used guns.

“Siberian, a little more focus on the job and a little less on Red,” Brad said and waved him over to the rest of them. Brad only handed out guns just before missions, so it was time to go. He took his when Brad gave it to him and attached the holster to his belt.

He had checked his claws earlier and just grabbed them from the coffee table.

Brad went over the mission one last time, and Ken listened closely. He liked the redundancy of always being told at least twice what he had to do, and he even sort of liked how sometimes Schuldig would pitch in to explain things if one of them didn't understand. The man was a good teammate, but a hellish enemy.

He still hadn't forgiven the foreigner for anything, but he could accept a truce.

Youji drove off alone in his car before anyone else left, so Ken gave Omi a lift on his bike. Schwarz only used one car if they could, or they'd rent an extra. Or steal one, Ken was sure.

It was a simple mission. Manx had said that Brad had asked Kritiker for easier ones so that they could get used to working together and still not risk anything. He thought it sounded like a good idea, but Omi wanted more complex missions for the extra pay.

Being with Nagi was almost like working with Aya. He was quiet and efficient. Omi was focused, but he talked a lot. Nagi was eerily quiet unless he gave direction or asked for assistance.

Unfortunately easy missions meant that he had too much energy left when it was over and his temper was shot to shit. It had been for a while. He needed the fights to bleed his bad temper out of him, even if he knew that was just a short term fix.

He wasn't really upset about Schuldig taking the target out, but Omi was.

So Ken punched the telepath.

Brad responded by picking him up and throwing him into a wall. Nowhere near Nagi's brute force, but for a guy who just relied on muscle power it was just as frightening. Schuldig stumbled to his feet. The former Schwarz moved to stand protectively around him, as if daring anyone else to try anything. They all seemed to genuinely like Schuldig, despite that he often teased everyone around.

“Get your shit together,” Brad growled.

“Sorry,” Ken winced. He was, too, and that was the worst of it.

Nagi screamed when Schuldig fell again, but Brad caught him before the telepath could hit the floor, quick as lightning. The way he held Schuldig was tender. He hefted the other man up and carried him as if he weighed nothing at all.

It was a little worrisome to see Schuldig lay limp like that.

Farfarello looked uncharacteristically worried as he trailed after Brad. Or maybe that was normal. Ken and the other two from Weiss spent more time to themselves than around Schwarz. Integration was slow at best.

Omi looked pleased. Too pleased. He was so petty, even though Ken thought of him as his best friend. He couldn't feel good about throwing the punch. Schuldig was just another man, freaky talent aside, and he hadn't been the one causing problems in the group.

“I need to think, can you ride with Youji?” Ken asked.

“What? You're not happy you nailed him?” Youji scoffed.

“Don't be such a child,” Ken snarled back. “No, I'm not. I get too worked up. Schuldig's at least trying to make this all work out.”

He made sure Schwarz was gone before he sat on his bike and sped off. He knew that once he got home Brad would want to talk to him. A large part of him wanted to get it over with, but he still drove around aimlessly for two hours before heading home.

The light in the kitchen was on, and Brad's door was open.

“I know I fucked up,” Ken offered and stood in the doorway.

“Why did you lash out?”

“I can't control myself?”

Brad looked at the chair. “Sit,” he ordered.

Last time they had talked he had stood up and ignored Brad's little command, but this was an order, and so Ken sat. Perhaps he would be better off following orders.

Brad sighed. “Do something about this shit. Play more soccer, meditate, get a girlfriend – I don't care. If you become too out of control I will handle you the same way I do Farfarello. That means sedatives, straitjackets and being locked down.”

Ken cleared his throat nervously. There were things he liked about Brad, but the guy was still not fully on his safe list. “I'm not sure I can.”

“What if I had brought Abyssinian along today?” Brad asked softly. “What if you'd attacked him?”

“I wouldn't,” Ken said without hesitation. He bit his lip. “I'm too used to him, Omi and Youji. It's like I'm blocking them out.”

“Alright, here's what we're going to do. You will spar with me, starting tomorrow afternoon.”

Ken nodded.

“This isn't punishment, this is me giving you a shot at control.”

“Am I getting punished?”

“Not this time. I'm going to give you an honest chance here, Ken. Next time? Next time won't be fun, no matter if you meant to or not. I would, however, _strongly suggest_ apologizing to Schuldig before he develops a grudge with you.”

Ken nodded. “I will. Is he okay?”

“I don't know, but he's asleep now so you should get some sleep too and aim to do better tomorrow.”

“You know if we hadn't met as enemies first it would have been really cool to have you guys here. You're not half bad.”

“Thank you. Now go to bed.”

“Yes sir.”  

 


	8. Breakfast

Ran woke up when Schuldig flopped down on the bed at some ungodly hour in the morning and curled up in a ball like a cat. He didn't see the point in getting up. The foreigner purred for a while, mimicking a content cat, until exhaustion claimed him. He had a black eye and looked too worn to be content. As soon as the foreigner fell asleep there was that brief, reflexive pull to take advantage of a weakened enemy and kill him, but Ran remembered that they were on the same side all too well. Still, if Schuldig wanted to sleep on top of the blanket instead of under it that was his own doing.

The next time he woke he saw and felt the foreigner curled up around him like a koala. He was breathing evenly and there was nothing about him that suggested danger. Ran was a little partial to stay like that. He was never one to initiate physical contact unnecessarily, but he did enjoy it.

Schuldig smelled of shampoo and soap. His bruised face looked much better, but was still a little swollen. Their bodies were pressed together and Ran felt the warmth from the foreigner. Schuldig mumbled something and held him tighter. Ran stayed still for a while before he untangled himself and got up. As much as it pained him to admit it, he couldn't blame his hard on entirely on being freshly awake.

It was noon, he noted with a hint of a surprise when he spotted the alarm clock on the window ledge. He normally never slept in unless he was injured, and that wasn't the case. He was still weak from being bedridden, but overall fine. All that time in the hospital had given him bad habits. On a normal day he would have gone for a run, opened the shop and skipped all meals until dinner. He was itching to get back into a habit. To work, or at least work out.

Going for a run would be stupid if Schuldig wanted to fix their room up today. He had no intentions of passing out, and keeping up with the foreigner would no doubt be exhausting enough in its own right. Digging through the top box labeled “Aya” yielded him enough clothes to settle him for the day, though he should go shopping for more. He also found some toiletries he vaguely remembered getting before the last mission against Eszett. Then again, toothpaste didn't go bad as far as he knew.

Nobody was in the common areas when he went to the closest bathroom to shower and change, and the place was still empty when he went to the kitchen in search of breakfast. _Lunch_.

He wondered if Schuldig's comment about Brad having OCD was less jab and more truth when he noticed the subtle labeling in the kitchen. It was like a daycare center. Each of them had a marked shelf among the overhead cabinets, and in the door of the tall fridge. He checked the freezer, but that seemed to have a system where people simply wrote their name on their things. There was also a lot of space marked “everybody” which held staple foods.

The note on the only patch of free wall in the small kitchen listed some rules. It also listed diets and allergies for all of them when applicable. Except him, but he had only gotten there last night. Schuldig was vegan, which seemed odd. Nagi was allergic to almost everything.

Youji, proving once and for all that he wasn't entirely Japanese, hated pickles. Nothing new there.

He wondered if Youji had taken to Brad, with how he seemed to have a fascination for America, but discarded the idea. Youji disliked Schwarz out of principle.

There was a strict note on the cutting block for the knives to only be used for food. Less daycare, more mental health clinic. “We're all crazy here,” he muttered.

In the end he made himself a cup of tea. He wasn't in the mood to eat. He was jittery about Schwarz, uneasy about Weiss and he missed the steady routine the flower shop had provided. The mugs were thankfully all white, like the rest of the china. Any more of the color system and he was likely to go on a killing spree.

He went to sit by the table in the common room just as Schuldig shuffled into the kitchen, his posture more resembling a cast member from _Dawn of the Dead_. He flashed Ran a tired smile. Somehow the foreigner was already dressed. He hadn't noticed just how fashion conscious Schuldig was before, the work clothes he normally saw him in were clearly some form of uniform.

Nagi silently appeared from a closed door and disappeared into the kitchen, dressed only in a t-shirt large enough to almost reach his knees. He joined Ran by the table first, a pear and a small container of soy yogurt floating after him and then neatly placing themselves on the table. The boy didn't make eye contact, but they each mumbled a greeting. Ran wondered if he could control that talent with more finesse than simply floating or tossing things, but didn't know if that was something he could ask and expect an answer.

With a little patience he would find out in such close proximity anyway.

When Schuldig emerged from the kitchen with a mug of coffee and a banana he seemed much more alive. He loudly wished them a good morning, in German, and then sat next to Ran.

“Good day,” Ran said with a pointed look towards the clock on the wall. His grasp of the language was good enough for small talk, as long as they stayed away from slang.

“It feels like morning. Stiff in all the right places.” He had some sort of dialect, but Ran had no idea which.

Nagi glared at Schuldig. “That is disgusting and Crawford says we should speak Japanese,” he reprimanded.

“I'm sure Ran would let us know if he minded,” Schuldig drawled.

“Is that another rule?” Ran asked. There were a lot of rules to this operation all of a sudden. Not just the usual ones, but the micromanagement ones that he had never done well with.

Schuldig smirked into his coffee. “Courtesy. Weiss freaked a little. Brad and I use German for a lot of the planning since few people here speak it. Poor, poor kitties thought we were out to get them.”

Ran mused that Youji and his drama queen antics probably meant a huge freak out, especially if Ken and Omi joined in. “I can't imagine why they'd think that...”

Schuldig tried to ruffle Ran's hair, but he ducked away out of habit and Schuldig let him get away with it.

“You still need to give your report since you didn't this morning,” Nagi told Schuldig in a detached voice, switching the conversation to Japanese.

“I gave it to Brad.”

“In writing?”

“I'm special. I don't need to write.”

“Can you?”

“Keep digging, air bender.” Schuldig yawned behind a hand.

Ran took his empty mug to the dishwasher. The squabble continued, making him wonder how Schwarz had ever gotten anything done. The again, this must have been a big change for them as well. A team of eight would have a very different dynamic than a smaller team of four.

“ _No, really, we always do this_ ,” Schuldig's voice came in his head.

Farfarello stood in the doorway to his room, opposite the kitchen, seemingly debating if it was safe to venture outside yet. Or simply not pleased to see him.

“Hey,” Ran greeted him.

The reply he got sounded vaguely like English. It had the general feel of a greeting. If it was an insult he'd never know anyway, so there was no point in reacting as if it was. He remembered that the man was Irish, not British like he kept mentally labeling him. British would have been too simple.

“I have no idea what that meant,” he said in Japanese.

“Good morning, or the like. Are you skittish too? Or can we talk around you?” Farfarello spoke in English. He had a thick accent that made some words harder to understand.

“If he wanted to, that telepath of yours could keep all communication silent. Seems pointless to fuss over details,” Ran answered his question in English. It was easier to stick to the same language than it was to keep up with two different ones.

“God hates gingers. You should dye it again,” Farfarello said in a pleased voice, went inside the kitchen and then moved on to Schuldig and Nagi with a mug of tea in his hand.

Ran considered it. It was now almost back to its natural dark brown. Whatever products the hospital used stripped color off rather efficiently.

He jumped when strong hands landed on his shoulders and grabbed hold. He turned his head to see Brad standing behind him. “Good to see you again, Fujimiya.”

The words “you creep me out” left his mouth before he could think about a better, more socially acceptable thing to say.

Brad pressed closer and chuckled quietly next to his ear. He was warm and solid. “I did miss you. The other three are so _predictable_. Nowhere near as pleasant to look at either.” He slid his hands from Ran's stiff shoulders, down his arms before his hands grabbed Ran's wrists a little harder than necessary and crossed his arms so that they embraced. It was done in a more intimate way than necessary, but the hard grip spoke of distrust.

Ran glared at the air in front of him and tried to get away before realizing he couldn't. He didn't so much mind the inappropriate touch as the scare. Brad seemed the touchy kind, and he did remember who had deposited him in the hospital, even if he tried his damnedest not to think on it. He relaxed in the foreigner's hold.

“I thought you died on us,” Brad said quietly.

Ran nodded. “I did.”

“We'll talk later, come see me when you're ready,” the older man said.

He gave Ran a last squeeze before letting go. Ran missed the hug when he was gone, even though he would only admit to it under torture. Brad went to fetch himself a cup of coffee.

The fact that three oldest members of this new team were after his ass made him annoyed. They could damn well screw each other and leave him out of it. Youji might even be game.

“ _Ew, not touching Youji. Who knows what I'd catch?_ ” Schuldig commented telepathically.

Brad came back with his coffee. Ran didn't freak when he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It's amusing really. Farfarello attacked all the others. Had to pull him off and sedate him before he killed them. Seems like you're safe for now.”

Ran shrugged. Farfarello hadn't seemed aggressive. He frowned and thought back, but found nothing. Maybe it was just a good day for the madman. Maybe Brad was just a manipulative little shit who wanted him to think Farfarello was the loosest cannon.

“Come on,” Brad led the way to the dining table, arm still over Ran's shoulders.

Schuldig grinned at them.

“Brad, tell Schuldig to start filing reports,” Nagi demanded once they were all seated and Ran was free from annoying appendages touching him. “Takatori Junior won't shut up unless we all hand in individual reports to him.”

“I write his reports,” Brad said. “Telepaths make lousy secretaries.”

“Are we doing everything by Kritiker's book, or is that some Eszett thing?” Ran asked.

“Kritiker,” Brad nodded. Nagi floated his and Schuldig's trash to a nearby bin. Their bickering seemed to not effect their relationship any.

“Roll it up and shove it up his ass then. He's just topping from the bottom,” Ran muttered. “The report is three things; mission success or failure, a basic who did what, and lastly any problems or intel Kritiker needs to look into. If it's a failed mission, include what exactly went wrong. Kritiker doesn't want essays, they burn everything once the mission is completed and out of the media. Also, if the team messed up, you fix it before you file a report.”

Brad grinned maliciously at nothing in particular. Ran seriously doubted Farfarello was the biggest psychopath in Schwarz.

“I have an idea,” Farfarello said. “We take him,” here he indicated Ran with a wave, “and leave the other three to die in a ditch.”

“Just because I'm not best friends with Omi doesn't mean I automatically like any of you,” Ran reasoned.

Schuldig raised an eyebrow as if to dispute that. “Oh? Don't you now?”

“We'll need them all,” Brad said calmly. “It'll just be bumpy for a few months while we all settle in. It'll get better.”

“If you change your mind you know how to find us, I can make them go away without anyone knowing they ever existed... For now, though, I am taking the cuddly kitten shopping,” Schuldig said enthusiastically. “He needs stuff and we're going to do up the room.”

“You have access to the credit cards, do what you want. Get some spare light bulbs while you're out. LED, not halogen.” Brad calmly sipped his coffee. Obviously he trusted the telepath.

Schuldig shrugged. “I'll grab whatever glows the way I want it to.”

“The LED ones last longer, meaning they're cheaper in the long run.”

“First of all, we won't be here long enough to benefit from that. Second, you took a class in Creative Bookkeeping at Eszett, judging by how much more money we had compared to other teams, so use your magic fingers.” Schuldig grinned in challenge. Brad flipped him off.

“Speaking of shopping. Are you going to stick with using a katana or can we get you to use something less medieval?” Brad asked Ran.

“I prefer blades.”

“More personal to stab people,” Farfarello said approvingly. He still had the teabag in his cup for some reason. Maybe he didn't have enough sense of taste to realize it tasted like paint thinner?

“I need you to be versatile,” Brad said, all business. “Manx gave us funds to get you gear, and I know the people who sell, but I need to know you'll be willing to adapt a little.”

Ran shrugged. “Sure. I need a rig and something with higher caliber than the .22 I used to carry.”

“You had a _gun_?” Nagi asked in a baffled tone.

Schuldig snickered. “Yeah, but somehow it never ended up in my face.”

“I don't have access to the kind of bullets that could kill you,” Ran muttered. “They're likely locked up in the Vatican.”

“Ha ha,” Schuldig said with no humor in his voice. “Come on, bitch. We're going shopping.”

 

 


	9. Decorating And Drinking

Shopping and decorating with Schuldig turned up three interesting facts, apart from the surreal knowledge that Schuldig could be a friendly person when he wanted to.

First, the foreigner had a back injury he kept quiet about. It showed in his body language when he carried or lifted heavy objects, even if he was trying to be subtle he was just too vocal in general to really keep it under wraps.

Second, they had similar taste. Or a similar lack thereof as Youji had claimed when he had poked his head in to observe the progress. Schuldig had swatted at him with a pillow and a glare, so he hadn't stayed to chat long. There seemed to be no love lost between them.

Third, between random bouts of near hyperactivity, Schuldig had long moments where he was still and mostly quiet. There were also moments when he zoned out completely for a few minutes at a time.

Ran stashed these observations away for later consideration.

The loft was big enough that they could fit two single beds on it and still have space left over, which they had considered. The fact that people had to be in the room and raise their eyes to the ceiling to even notice the loft made it the most strategic place to sleep. The furniture store they had decided on had given them a better idea with one of their displays. Or worse. Ran wasn't sure. “If nothing else does, this alone is going to land me in Hell.”

Schuldig was splayed out across the pillows and blankets. “Who cares? You'll have plenty of company. This mattress is awesome.”

The best description was “harem”. It was in soft shades of muted, almost grayish colors instead of the jewel shades Schuldig had first suggested, but they had narrowly squeezed in two double-sized mattresses laid out directly on the floor, plenty of extra blankets and decorative pillows. They could sleep far apart enough to have some semblance of privacy even though it could be considered one big bed.

The ladder up to the loft was hidden from view by two bookcases. Ran had attached it to the wall since they were likely to come home injured, or drugged, and while it was sturdy it was better to be safe than sorry.

Ran gave in and fell backwards. It was like resting on a cloud. Easily the coziest he had ever had as a bed.

“Up, up in the sky. Or ceiling,” Schuldig mumbled.

“We should finish the chair things.”

“Not moving.”

“Officially, that's where we sleep, since you're so skittish about letting people know about this space. It would be a priority.”

Schuldig sighed. “Oh, shush. Indulge a little. And if you had to listen to what everyone thinks, you'd want a hiding spot too. There's a very fine line between plotting murder and committing it, and we're all way too comfortable with crossing that line.”

“Who got close enough to hit you last night?” Ran asked curiously. He had almost asked several times, but he was somewhat wary of Schuldig still. It bugged him though, he'd never gotten close enough to even scratch Schuldig during their fights.

“Ken,” Schuldig growled out.

“Why?”

“I took out the target, and apparently Brad and I always do. Childish. He was mostly just too wound up on adrenaline, so when Omi complained he saw an outlet.”

Reaching out with one hand he gently laid it on Schuldig's shoulder. “How did you hurt your back?”

He guessed Schuldig wanted to slow down to rest his back, not because he was tired, and he seemed okay with talking about things.

“On the job,” Schuldig answered ambiguously. “It's old. If you rub my back I'll get my ass in gear and help you with the chairs.”

“Okay,” he agreed neutrally.

Schuldig took off his shirt and flipped over to lay on his belly. He handed Ran a packet from his back pocket. It made Ran's eyes stray to Schuldig's ass, and while he had no problem admitting to himself what he liked, having a telepath nearby made him blush.

“I do not even want to know why you carry lube around,” Ran muttered under his breath. Still, the lube was as good as massage oil he supposed.

“I used to carry condoms too, but I like sleeping with Brad. He's boring enough that he doesn't sleep around, which means no nasty diseases. We're not exclusive, we just agreed to check with each other first. Boring old Brad is still wild enough to not care where we do it. Or how.”

Ran shook his head. “I did not need that information.” He tore open the pack and let the content drip along Schuldig's spine. His hands slid over the soft skin to spread the lube before starting to find the problem areas.

“You know what we agreed on? We're giving you a free card.” Schuldig moaned softly when Ran hit a sore spot.

“I'm flattered,” Ran said in a dead monotone suggesting the opposite.

“Don't tell me you're not interested.”

“Doesn't mean I'll go from plotting to murder.”

He left his mind to drift and didn't pay attention other than to find out where he should focus. It was almost meditative. He waited until Schuldig was a relaxed puddle under him, then pushed the vertebrae into a more healthy position. And held Schuldig still as he thrashed.

He rubbed over the area to hide the tingling from the healing and tried to fix it before Schuldig came off the pain spike and noticed. Or came off the pain spike and outright killed him. That was a very real possibility. He wasn't very confident in his ability to survive a hostile telepath.

When the curses started he hushed and kept stroking the slick skin. He knew he had been quick enough when Schuldig sighed and relaxed again. He kicked his legs experimentally.

“Don't worry, you're fine. You really should have seen a chiropractor for that,” he said.

Schuldig mumbled something about having done that. He jerkily moved to sit and Ran let him.

“Fuck you bitch, that hurt.” The German stretched, then tested the spine with his fingers. Ran could almost pinpoint the moment when he went from insecure to cocky. “I feel better though. I don't suppose you'd give me a prostate massage if I dropped my pants?”

“No.”

“I don't suppose you'd drop your pants so I can give you a prostate massage?”

“No.”

“Pity, but I want you willing.” Schuldig got dressed again. “Willing, mewling and begging.”

Ran went to wash his hands from the sticky residue, then they finished up putting the rest of the furniture together. There were a few hours of daylight left when they were done. Deciding that he would spend more than enough time in that room later, Ran went to examine the common areas closer. Revealing no great mysteries he went in search of Weiss instead. The only one around was Youji, smoking in his own room.

There was something soothingly predictable about the expensive brand name clothes carelessly thrown about all available surfaces except the floor and the smell of cigarette smoke. Youji was considerate enough to keep the poisonous fumes to his own room most of the time.

Ran knocked the door frame to get the other man's attention.

“Hey,” Youji waved his cigarette to a chair-shaped pile of clothes. “Sit. How tacky is your room now?”

“Very,” Ran replied, but stayed standing in the doorway. He didn't want to sort through the pile of used clothes to find the chair. If there even was one.

“Well, I'm glad you came back. It wasn't the same without you.”

He nodded. “What did I miss?”

“Not much. Kritiker accepted Schwarz into the ranks, but they don't trust them without supervision, which is why the teams were bundled up. Omi tried to lead, didn't work out. He was actually kinda shit, more so than what I remember from before you came along. Oracle is not bad at planning missions, and he's reliable, but he's like a drill sergeant.” Youji lit a fresh cigarette on his old one. “You gonna topple him?”

Ran sighed. “Weiss will follow Oracle, but Schwarz will not follow anyone else.”

He hadn't considered it for a second so far. He didn't want to lead, just did it because the other three in Weiss were so disorganized.

Youji nodded. “Maybe. Look, if Schuldich is giving you a hard time just stay in here with me for a bit.”

“Thanks,” Ran said in a monotone. “Which pile would you suggest?”

“Smart ass,” Youji scoffed. “Baby sis okay?”

“Fine.”

“You've lost a bit of weight, haven't you?” Youji asked. He looked Ran up and down in a way that made him uncomfortable. Like he was up for grabs. A thing.

“I don't know,” Ran admitted. He assumed he would have, spending so long in a hospital. The food wasn't exactly edible.

“Those pants used to be much tighter on you.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. Youji checked him out? That was all kinds of creepy. Then again, Schuldig had just asked him for a prostate massage. Perverts, the lot of them. He glared at the older man.

“Hey, don't give me that look,” Youji complained. “You might not care how you look, but when you do dress nice you look good. I'd do you.”

“Leaving,” Ran huffed and slipped away. He had been thinking of Youji as an older brother or a friend for so long that it didn't sit right with him. The use-once-then-throw-away policy Youji had with his dates wasn't a point in his favor either. Youji liked to chase, he didn't keep anything once he'd had it. It seemed hollow, and Ran was hollow enough already. He didn't need what little he had left in him ripped away too.

Schuldig he had no real relationship with yet, not now when they were on the same team. Schuldig might be perverted, but his eyes weren't the same as Youji's. Schuldig would not take it personal if Ran turned him down, he'd let Ran go if he proved too much trouble.

“Hey, don't be such a shut in,” Youji objected and quickly caught up with him. “Take it as a compliment. I'll buy you dinner, okay? I need to eat before I go clubbing anyway.”

“Fine.”

“Good. Meet me out front, I'll just grab some fresh clothes,” Youji said and disappeared into his room.

In the end, they were friends. Road bumps or no. Ran just had to make sure it stayed that way. Before Youji showed up, Schuldig came out of nowhere. He slung his arms around Ran's waist and put something in his back pocket.

“Relax, it's just money. Enough for a night out. Take a cab home if he dumps you,” Schuldig whispered. He still smelled like lube, and some type of hair product. The foreigner nuzzled his cheek.

“Tanks.” Ran relaxed into the embrace. If he had to pick, he wouldn't go for Youji.

“I know,” Schuldig whispered. “Just remember that you'll either get both me and Brad, or a little fun on the side. And, honestly, I know you want something solid. We won't stop you from having friends, so don't worry.”

They stayed like that for a few seconds, then he was gone. That speed of his was infinitely more creepy than the telepathy. Ran shook his head. He checked what Schuldig had given him and then put it back into his pocket. If he was simply being manipulative, he was damned good at it.

It wasn't that Ran couldn't pick a few pockets, it was nice to not have to. It was nice to have someone else around who could think ahead.

“Alright, let's go,” Youji smiled when he reappeared.

Ran nodded.

Youji drove them to his usual clubbing neighborhood in that ridiculously noticeable car he clung to. It wasn't the fancy part of town, but the times Ran had been there it had displayed a charm of its own. Mostly because it was easy to find Yakuza willing to talk, which helped during more than one mission.

The sun was starting to set when they arrived. The early crowd was more tolerable, and older, than the more hardcore club kids who showed up later during the night. Ran was hungry after all the activity during the day and readily agreed to one of the small places that literally served out of a hole in the wall. Any food sounded good right about now. There were free seats up by the wooden counter.

The two men on staff seemed to know Youji, though not by name, so Ran assumed he had dropped by more than once. He told them Ran was a friend and that he was paying for both. Unusual for Youji, but not unheard of.

The staff spoke Korean between themselves while they served a businesswoman. Ran looked at the menu. He was hungry, but he wasn't sure what he wanted. They had a very long menu for such a small place. Usually that meant nothing was cooked well, but Youji was a fussy eater so it had to be at least decent.

“I'll have samgyeopsal,” Youji ordered, and only slightly mangled the Korean name. Fried pork seemed to fit with Youji's eating habits. Really, the guy should be pawing all over the foreigners they were now bunking with. Ran was sure they had much in common.

“And the pretty one?” the older of the staff asked. He seemed like one of those quirky old men who had lost all sense of shame. It was a good thing Ran wasn't nearly as uptight as people assumed. He could act like a club kid if he had to.

“Why is all of Korea on your menu? I don't know what to pick,” Ran said in Korean with a mock pout. Korean and Japanese were similar, and it always surprised him when Japanese people didn't seem to understand it.

“Dumplings for you then. My son claims it's what I cook best,” the old man chuckled. “Why are you with the blond?”

“We work together and he wanted to feed me.”

Meanwhile Youji spoke Japanese as he asked the younger of the two cooks for beer for both of them. “I didn't know you spoke Korean?” Youji asked.

“I speak a lot of languages,” Ran shrugged it off.

“Are you from Korea?” the old man asked in Korean while he cooked.

“No. My biological father is Korean by birth,” Ran answered him in a slightly quiet voice. “We don't get along, I've been living here with my aunt and her husband until I started working.”

“Your friend doesn't know?”

“Nobody knows. It never seemed important,” Ran said. The cook placed a few small bowls in front of them. He turned to Youji and switched to Japanese, “do you want some kimchi?”

Youji made a face that suggested he wasn't a huge fan. “You're fascinating. With the people you open up to, I mean. There was that woman who lived next door to the flower shop for a while who practically adopted you as her own. She almost didn't move out because she was so attached to you. Everybody else you grunt at, or bitch at.”

Ran huffed. “So I'm weird.”

The man sitting next to Ran finished his meal and left. Youji and Ran were served their meals and had started eating before a new customer slid into the chair. Ran looked over more out of curiosity than a need to know. There were Yakuza out on the prowl.

The tattooed gangster ordered food in Korean and sat down patiently. Ran focused on his food. He only had two knives on him and wasn't in the mood to get in a fight. He knew he wasn't in his usual shape either, not after so long in the hospital.

Youji was talking on his phone with some girl. Ran knew without listening in because Youji's voice changed when he spoke to women he was interested in. He pitched it softer and became a lot more eloquent.

The old man on staff caught his attention and indicated the Yakuza next to him. Ran looked at the man again, openly this time. “What?” he asked.

“I've seen your friend around, but not you,” the Yakuza said in Korean with a nod toward Youji.

“So what? Did he steal your girlfriend?”

Rather than get annoyed the man laughed. “No, no. He's a common face here, though. You're too pretty to be forgotten, even if I'm not interested in men.”

“It's my curse,” Ran sighed, borrowing a dramatic pose from Schuldig. That man could put on a show even while shopping for pillows. It was easier to mimic others than to be authentic when he was such a quiet person normally. “I have the looks of a supermodel and the personality of a wolverine. Does it matter if we've met?”

The man lit a cigarette. Ran noticed he wasn't very well built. Not likely to be a fighter, but people could surprise you. In a life or death situation some people just refused to go down. “Some foreigners told us to keep a look out for a guy with purple eyes. Said he was missing. I figured they were kidding, but you do have purple eyes.”

“What foreigners?”

“Some mismatched pair we do business with sometimes. Creepy guys. Seem to have a lot of cash, so the boss liked them. You can't miss them, one is really tall and muscled, the other kinda lean and keeps changing his hair color. He's had orange for a while. Saw him in pink once and said something inappropriate... other guy nearly shot me. Touchy about that friend of his.”

Ran nodded, that sounded like Schwarz. “They never take the crazy guy or the kid with them?”

“Don't know about a kid. I've heard rumors about their crazy pet.” He picked out his phone and hit a speed-dial button.

Ran finished his beer and handed the empty plate to the staff along with the bottle.

“Don't mind him, he's harmless,” the old man told him. “You'd think Yakuza would be all mean and tough, but some of them are nice guys.”

Ran figured he must have looked uncomfortable or disbelieving because the old man reached over and patted his cheek with a calloused hand. He smelled like food. It reminded Ran of a more peaceful time.

“Now you've gotten adopted again,” Youji said in Japanese. He seemed amused. “What are they saying?”

“He's telling me the Yakuza are actually nice guys who adopt stray kittens. Who were you on the phone with?”

Odds of Youji picking up the code? Slim.

“One of my girls. She wanted to know if we could dance tonight, so you'll have to find your own way home.”

Ran grunted. He failed to be surprised. “And then you wonder why I don't want to be with you,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“Have a nice night,” Ran said loud enough to be heard. Really, what part of Ran telling him the guy was trouble did Youji not understand?

 

 


	10. The Talk

“We should talk,” Ran said from the doorway. He looked tired, and it was late. Schuldig had called and told him Youji had bought him dinner and then dumped him, just like Brad had predicted. It was handy that he had a partner who could keep track even from the other end of town.

He hoped Schuldig's assignment would be done quicker than expected. It had been a while since they had some time alone and he wanted to make sure he was fine. He had looked okay at breakfast, but Schuldig was good at both shrugging off injuries and hiding his true emotions when he wanted to.

Brad's room was, as usual, his office as well. The desk was closest to the door, pushed up to the wall. Brad pointed to the chair next to it. “Have a seat,” he told Ran. Schuldig had gotten that chair, but he had no idea where. The German had just shown up one morning with it. It was tacky, colorful and looked horribly out of place. And it was the most comfortable piece of furniture they currently owned.

Ran did sit as told, the way he curled up coupled with his washed out t-shirt, torn jeans and bare feet made him look younger. Brad felt a surge of protectiveness he normally reserved for his teammates. He wondered a little at it, but didn't feel the need to suppress or analyze it. He wasn't Eszett's puppet any longer, he kept reminding himself these days. He didn't have to tone his innate sadism up ten notches with everything he did.

Didn't have to stay detached.

“I'm surprised you lived, to be honest. You weren't in very good shape when I pulled you out of the water. Less when I got you to the hospital.”

“I died,” Ran mumbled. “I just never actually stay dead. Here, I'll show you.”

Brad watched while the redhead took out a small throwing knife and sliced his hand open. Farfarello felt no pain, and often mutilated himself, but Brad noticed Ran had no such scars. And the blood didn't come. Brad took the hand and studied the small wound while it closed itself. He felt the newly healed skin with his thumb and Ran shivered. It was probably sensitive.

He must have been badly injured to have been hospitalized that long. Unless Kritiker had tried to figure the talent out by some primitive means. It didn't seem their style, he had to admit. Kritiker was oddly fond of its operatives.

“Rare talent,” Brad said. “Not usually very strong, though, and fickle from what I've heard.” Ran obviously knew how to direct it. Even healing a wound this small so fast was an indication of a strong talent. The most interesting question was – could he be trained to direct it outside of himself?

“Manx didn't tell me why Schwarz decided to switch sides.”

“We're on the same side as always – _ours_. I could spend half a decade on the run from the dregs that's left of Eszett, risk losing my team members and never sleep in the same bed for more than a week. I chose not to. Kritiker, for the record, were somewhat enthusiastic to have us on their side. They don't trust us, but they're not willing to turn down the help.”

Ran looked him straight in the eyes the entire time he spoke. Brad had held on to his hand, and Ran didn't seem to really know how to ask for its release. He was awkward in social contexts, never really understanding the finer subtleties. Brad stroked the newly healed skin to see him suppress the shiver.

“We have a lot of work to be done and Kritiker lacks the staff to give us enough intel, meaning we do our own legwork. I want you working as soon as possible. There is no cover job, this is your full time occupation. There's too much to do to even bother with a front. I doubt I have to tell you to stay in shape, but other than that your free hours are your own. I don't care if you knit, arrange Ikebana, bake cupcakes or braid your sister's hair as long as you're on top of your game when I need you for a job.”

“How much do we work?” Ran asked when he finished.

“That depends on what Kritiker throws our way.”

Ran shrugged. “Okay. Who did what in Schwarz?”

“Farfarello has no talent per se, but he's a well trained fighter. He has a medical condition called congenital analgesia which means he feels no pain. He's a grunt, essentially. Nagi is a telekinetic, and our researcher since he's not well trained enough to manage missions alone. Schuldig is a telepath. His role in the team was more like yours in Weiss, he got things moving. He's also the best driver and pilot we have. I led the team, handled Eszett and our more important contacts along with taking care of most practical arrangements. I'm a precognitive, meaning I can see the future.”

“I always thought you could only see people's plans for the future.”

“I keep forgetting you're the clever one. You're partially right, for the record, I do see people's plans. That's not all, but you'll notice in due time.” He started caressing Ran's hand to see the reaction again. There was a blush starting to show on his cheeks.

“Why would Kritiker put you in charge?” Ran finally pulled his hand away with a frown, and Brad allowed it to slowly slip from his grip.

He smiled more to himself than at Ran. “They didn't. Omi was supposed to step up. He couldn't do it.”

“I imagine few people could get away with giving Schwarz orders. Especially since you seem to consider us a bunch of bumbling idiots.”

“I have fifteen years of experience in espionage and assassination. Your rookie mistakes are more annoying than anything else. Do you have a problem following my lead?”

Ran shook his head, which surprised Brad even if he didn't show it. The redhead was stubborn and short tempered, this calm seemed wrong. He could be feeling trapped in the lion's den, playing nice to keep his life. Or he liked not being the one to always have to charge first.

Or perhaps dying had changed something in him.

“I don't doubt that you can lead a team. I'm concerned you'll lead us someplace too dark.”

“Kritiker is still bringing the missions,” Brad assured him. He liked the veiled compliment.

Ran looked skeptical, but not entirely unconvinced. Brad watched him worry his lower lip.

“Can we still refuse jobs? Birman sometimes offered non-lethal jobs.” Ran looked uncomfortable. “Having sex with the targets.”

“That bothers you?” Brad asked. This interested him, because he wanted to fuck the redhead and anything he could pry out of him would be useful. “Did you take them?”

Ran shook his head vehemently. “I told her I could kill them, but she didn't want that.”

“What of leading on and flirting?”

“I'd rather not,” Ran said firmly.

“How about posing as a couple with a teammate?”

Ran shrugged. “I can do that, if I have to.”

“I'll be blunt, Eszett wanted success at any cost. We were tools, not people with feelings attached. I couldn't care less if I slept with a target to get the job done. To this day, though, I've never had the need to.” Brad chuckled. “We're not whores so don't think like one.” He thought for a second. “I handled all contact with Eszett. I will talk to Manx and Birman about how they distribute the jobs. I have no problem telling them to shove it. I'm sure you would have no problem telling _me_ you refuse.”

Ran nodded. He looked a little relieved.

“Don't start thinking I'm a nice guy now,” Brad joked. He wasn't. There'd be no point pretending otherwise.

The huff he got in reply was halfhearted. Point for Schwarz.

“We're not so different, you know. Minus the pretentious bullshit Kritiker envelops itself in, it's all murder and mayhem,” Brad said.

“What's the saying? Stare into the Abyss and it stares into you?”

“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee,” Brad quoted. “Nietzsche. Since we've gotten into the subject of Germans – any problem bunking with Schuldig?” Brad had a problem with it. He wanted to fuck both of them, and having them in a separate room meant that if they went at it he wouldn't get a chance to watch. It irked him, but if anyone would be able to win Ran over it was Schuldig. He could charm the Devil himself.

“Not really.” Ran blushed again.

“Good. Let me know if there are any issues with anyone that you can't solve yourself.” He took a small box from a drawer in the desk and handed it to Ran, who opened it and checked the phone out before going over the rest.

“ID, passport, credit card. You're officially dead, this will be your cover if you need to be out and about outside of missions. I suggest getting some type of cover story going.” Brad handed him a slip of paper. “Phone numbers for me, Nagi, Farfarello and Schuldig. You'll have to ask the others for theirs since they refused to take anything from me. I have a telepath who can summon them, so it doesn't matter to me.”

Ran sat there and fiddled with it all.

“Stay a bit,” Brad suggested since Ran seemed reluctant to leave. “If you think of anything else just ask.”

Brad realized Ran might be more lonely than Schuldig had told him. That could work in their favor. The redhead started setting the smart phone up the way he wanted it. Brad went back to his computer work.

“There's...” Ran faltered. Brad stopped typing and looked at him. “The Yakuza. Why did you have them look for me? I ran into one of them.”

“I know.” Brad had gotten the phone call, after all. “I have them keep tabs for me. Kritiker has never shown much interest in decimating their numbers, going for the lone wolves rather than the packs.”

“Do you even understand how bad people will flip if they hear about it?”

“So keep your mouth shut.”

Ran raised an eyebrow.

“I may not be a telepath, but I can tell that it doesn't bother you, as such.”

“It bothers me that you have Yakuza members willing to drop everything to make sure I get home safely.”

“I just told him to put you in a cab, not tuck you into bed.” Brad chuckled. If Ran had been a cat his tail would have been puffed up and swishing. Ignoring the risk of personal injury, he reached out and scratched the redhead under the chin. He calculated that the odds of being bit were fairly low, because Ran wouldn't know what to do. Sure enough, the boy stilled and just frowned up at him briefly. He relaxed when Brad stroked his cheek with a thumb. “Do you want to be tucked in?” Brad asked softly.

Ran blushed furiously and his eyes became harder.

“Hush, just be honest,” Brad continued and placed his thumb over Ran's lips.

All that temper that was usually bubbling under the surface seemed blown away at that moment. Ran closed his eye and shrugged.

It would be a pity to not fuck the boy. He might as well work on getting the redhead used to following commands. “Good boy. Go to bed, I can tell you're exhausted. Schuldig won't be back until later.”

It pleased him that Ran did what he had been told. Starting out with ordering what people were bound to do anyway always worked best.

He followed close behind and then sat next to the boy in that tacky space Schuldig insisted was awesome. Ran blushed furiously when Brad kissed him on the lips, his body growing tense when Brad pushed him to his back and then French kissed him.

He tasted like toothpaste.

Brad pinned Ran's hands over his head. “I want you to keep your lips parted, can you do that?”

“Why?”

He bent down and nipped Ran's ear. “I hear kittens sleep better if they get milk.” With their hips flush against each other it was easy to tell that Ran approved on some level. “Have you sucked cock before?”

Ran blushed and fought him slightly, but Brad knew he was stronger and weighed much more than the skinny kid he had trapped.

“No?” he asked, and Ran blushed harder for a while until he shook his head. “I can tell you're turned on,” Brad whispered softly. “Will you be a good boy for me?”

It was different trying to coax a skittish person. Schuldig was so forward, while Ran almost seemed to have forgotten that he even had naughty bits. He looked torn, but eventually shook his head no.

“It's okay,” Brad soothed. He kissed Ran again.

There was no objection when he shifted to hold Ran's wrists with just one hand, not when he moved off the boy, and just a soft moan when he put his free hand in Ran's pants. Ran helped get the pants down to his knees when Brad opened the button fly.

Stroking Ran's cock made the boy moan prettily, but Brad had a plan. He stopped when Ran was close, then continued until he was almost peaking again. Ran cursed on the third time. By the sixth time he twisted free from Brad's hold.

Brad couldn't find the urge to complain when Ran undid his fly and started sucking him. “Good boy,” Brad praised softly. Ran was clumsy, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that he swallowed.

Brad stroked Ran's hair gently while he came off his high.

Finding Schuldig's lube stash was easy, and Ran eagerly got on all fours without questioning why the position was necessary. Brad coated two fingers. Inwardly he enjoyed the discomfort on Ran's face when he was penetrated. It might not be much, but if you weren't used to it it could be more than enough to cause discomfort.

“Good boy, Ran,” he praised.

There was an actual yelp when Brad nudged the boy's prostate. Continued contact made Ran shiver and spasm slightly. Ran was sensitive, Brad noted, judging by the little mewls Ran let out. Ran's cock leaked semen constantly as Brad rubbed the gland lightly.

“If you want to come you'll have to do it like a girl,” Brad challenged.

Ran came with a scream shortly after, and his exhausted panting was loud in the quiet room. Brad removed his fingers and dragged Ran closer so he could kiss him.

“Go to sleep,” Brad whispered softly. “You're safe.”

 

 


	11. Work

Brad seemed only mildly pissed when Ran started going over all the job files. He didn't stop him or say anything, just looked exasperated. Ran didn't much care as long as he didn't get a bullet in the heart for it. Besides, the couches in the living room were cozy.

“Catching up?” Farfarello asked in English. Ran looked up and saw him stand next to Brad. Soaking wet and dripping water. He hadn't heard anything, even though wet socks should squish. All of Schwarz were uncannily stealthy. He was jealous about that.

“How did you end up this wet?” Brad asked, also in English, his American accent standing out more around Farfarello for some reason.

“It's raining,” Farfarello said blandly. “I'm not Tot, so I don't carry an umbrella to jobs.”

“Where's Schuldig?”

“He's,” Farfarello turned his head towards Ran and clearly chose to censor himself, “getting a few frustrations out on some witnesses. Shouldn't be too long.”

Brad nodded. Farfarello wandered off, small puddles of water leaving a trail to the closest bathroom. Ran went back to reading and only looked up again when a much drier Farfarello came back. He was pushing a wad of paper with his foot to mop up the water. That made noise, but his feet still didn't. Was this something they were trained for, or a part of some talent? Brad had said Farfarello had no talent, but he could simply mean that the madman had no talent that was useful.

Eszett liked useful things, not things that were barely there.

“You do realize that Schuldig isn't a nice guy?” Brad asked Ran in Japanese.

The constant switching of languages was becoming more normal, easier to follow. Farfarello and Brad spoke English when they could, Schuldig spoke German when he was around people who could understand, Nagi seemed indifferent. Unless Weiss was around, then it was strictly Japanese. Ran thought his teammates were overreacting, but he hadn't been there from the start so he couldn't say if it was warranted or not.

“Yes,” Ran answered simply. When Brad kept looking at him funny Ran slammed the file down on the coffee table. “Why aren't you two sharing a room if you're this jealous?”

“I'm not jealous,” Brad said sharply. “I'm telling you that you shouldn't be naive. We're not suddenly good guys.”

Farfarello walked away.

Ran huffed. “I remember the past year well enough, thank you. Honestly, you're more of a danger than he is. He takes orders from you. What's stopping _you_?”

Brad smiled briefly. “Not much.”

Giving the foreigner a pointed glare he picked the files up and tried to find the page he had been reading.

“I had a vision. Schuldig will do something tomorrow,” Brad said, softer. “Not to you, from what I can tell. I'm not just being an ass, I'm _warning_ you. You'll get used to it or you'll hate him. Though you being you, I'm thinking option two is more likely.”

It seemed that being able to tell when Brad had visions would take some work. Ran had been around him all day, so he hid it well. Then again Schwarz had been Eszett's best team, they were required to be smooth about their skills and talents.

Brad sat down next to Ran, close enough that they touched, and grabbed him in a tight hug. He fought it until he realized Brad wasn't going to let go. Giving in he leaned his head on the older man's shoulder and allowed the hug, but he didn't hug back. The file was still in his hands.

“How did you and Schuldig end up together?” Ran asked quietly.

“We didn't. It's been mostly physical between us until we broke free.”

“It doesn't seem recent.”

Brad shrugged. “It is and it isn't.”

“Too macho to talk about emotions?”

“Too busy pretending for years on end that I had none,” Brad chuckled. “Alright, we've been sleeping together for a long time, but actually trying to be together? Very recent. It's why we don't act much like it. That and Eszett doesn't look kindly on these things.”

Brad nuzzled into him.

“Why do I have the feeling I'm going to be the center of a tug of war?”

“Because you will. Balinese will try to get you. Schuldig and I will definitely try to get you, but if you tell us to back off we will. Think about what you want, because it could get very ugly.”

“ _Why_?”

“It's not ill intended. You'd fit with me and Schuldig. There's a piece missing between us, and according to my visions you're the piece we need. I'll freely admit I enjoy your body, but that's not all.”

Ran nodded slowly. Brad and Schuldig had the added advantage of hunting in a pack. They were touchy and didn't back down when he snarled at them. Youji, on the other hand... he didn't want Youji that way.

“Suppose Youji's not your only competition?”

Brad growled softly.

Ran laughed. “Suppose I just need friends?”

Brad held him tighter. “I'd call you a liar.”

He was about to say something to that, but Youji walked in at that moment. He frowned at them, and Ran felt Brad nip his throat and then kiss the same spot. Could get ugly, huh? “Brad,” Ran hissed. The guy could play fair, couldn't he?

“Let him go,” Youji said. Wire out. Was he going to risk Ran getting caught in it as well? They were too close.

Brad chuckled and held his hands up, but it took Ran moving away before Youji was satisfied and left.

“Come,” Brad patted the spot he had vacated once Youji was gone.

Ran hesitated, but eventually decided he liked being held. Brad wrapped an arm around his shoulders and just sat with him while he finished reading. He threw the file on the coffee table and leaning in again. He dozed off sitting like that, because he felt oddly safe. Which defied all logic.

He came to when Brad's phone rang a while later. He blinked awake and then woke fully when he heard Manx on the other end. He could barely make out what she was saying, something about the police and identification. Hadn't Schwarz picked up their IDs yet?

Brad looked puzzled when he hung up. Trust Kritiker to explain nothing.

“She wants you to visit our official supervisor and pick up your ID cards and such. We're black ops, but in order to get evidence to the cops we have to be listed as undercover investigators. Means they'll handle speeding tickets and they won't arrest you,” Ran explained, guessing no one else had.

Sometimes the cops had waited by their cruisers while Weiss finished a job. It was usually Ran who gave them the all clear, or told them to stay back if there were explosives involved.

“Do you still know who our official supervisor is?” Brad asked and nuzzled his hair.

Ran nodded. “I can go with. They know me better than the others anyway.” To his knowledge he was the only one who showed up to file official paperwork.

“What about Nagi? He's hardly old enough.”

Ran shook his head. “They'll just be listed as accomplices. To my knowledge it was just me and Youji who were on the payroll.”

“Not Ken?”

“No.” He paused. “Ken wasn't cleared. If you have a criminal record they won't accept you.”

Brad hummed. “We'll just wait for Schuldig then. He'll be back in about twenty minutes.” Ran was pushed down into the couch and Brad laid down on top of him. He fought a little, but yielded when Brad kissed him.

Kissing was nice.

Schuldig came back earlier than Brad had said and took the time to shower and change.

“So, lovebirds,” the telepath grinned when he was done, “miss me?”

“Yes, keep your boyfriend off me,” Ran half-joked.

Schuldig sighed. “But I like you on your back.”

Ran pushed Brad off. “Perverts. Are we going to the cops now? They operate on regular business hours you know.”

“Fine,” Brad agreed.

Schuldig tossed Ran the car keys. “Let's go.”

The benefit of driving after Schuldig had was that he didn't need to adjust anything. He called Katsuya Obara while he drove, because if he had to drop by headquarters he preferred to deal with him, but there were always others who could help them as well. The old man seemed less than enthused, but he agreed to meet them.

“Is it going to be a problem that we're not Asian?” Brad asked.

Ran shrugged. “Probably. You're both very obviously... white.”

Schuldig snickered. “Ah, yes, and in most other places that's the reason why I _don't_ get stopped by police.”

“ _I_ get stopped by police,” Ran said, “I'm too tall and too pale.”

“It's funny how that goes,” Brad said, “in the West it is actually illegal to do racial profiling.”

“Right, that's why black people get arrested all the time in the US?”

“The cops get into trouble for it, though. Also, we're not allowed to call them black.”

“They _are_ black,” Ran argued. “Or brownish.”

Brad laughed. “Yes, but it's not proper to call them that. We call them African Americans.”

“But they weren't born in Africa. I'm willing to be they can't even list any capitals in Africa.”

“Such blatant racism, Ran,” Schuldig chuckled.

“Yes yes, just remember that you're working with Kitada.”

When the building came into view he pointed it out. Parking was easy for once. Obara met them in the lobby and they followed him up to his office.

“So, they speak Japanese?” he asked Ran once he was behind his desk.

“Yes,” he sighed. “They're fluent.”

“Good, good. We'll do a quick couple of tests then we'll issue the IDs.”

“Shooting and driving,” Ran supplied.

“Kitada is solving their obvious foreign looks with adoption,” Obara mentioned, still only talking to Ran. “Though the taller one could pass.”

“Adopted? I'm too old to be adopted,” Schuldig huffed.

“Not in Japan,” Ran said.

Obara led them down to the firing range in the basement first. He finally started talking directly to the foreigners to instruct them briefly on what he wanted to see. Brad shot first, and while Ran could tell Obara was impressed he could handle the gun he knew it would take more to warm him up to the idea of having foreigners on the force.

Schuldig was next and did just as well, but they were both reluctant to put the safety back on. Not obvious unless you looked for it, but there.

They went to the parking lot next, to the fenced in part where the squad cars were. Ran went over the equipment and showed them how to use it. Obara was busy on the phone, no doubt listening to an officer who had checked the foreigners up.

“Are we going to the driving range?” Ran asked.

 

 


	12. Lie Pathologically All Day

He woke up snuggled and warm and cozy. Pity Brad wasn't there, but Ran was growing on him. He was sweet. It was a welcome reprieve from the other three cats hating him. Not that he didn't understand why, but really, if the Grudge himself could cuddle then the other three really had no business being pissy.

It wasn't time to get up, not yet, so he stayed in bed. Ran moved a little in his sleep and Schuldig used that as an excuse to move them slightly. He needed a better position so he could easier molest the sleeping kitten.

Ran sometimes woke up and pushed him away, but that only made it more fun. Besides, he'd yet to sleep on the couch in the common area, so he couldn't be very traumatized, could he? It was a perfectly harmless game.

That day he woke up, but pretended to sleep. Schuldig let him and continued. He gently stroked the silky skin and traced patterns on the more sensitive parts. Ran had an idle thought that it was a nice way to wake up.

He took a small plug and some lube out from beneath one of the pillows. He liked hiding things where he might need them. Ran was staying put, so he coated the plug and then grabbed Ran's legs. His eyes flew open, but he didn't fight. Not even when Schuldig slid the plug into his tight hole.

“Feels a little odd, huh?” Schuldig went back to stroking Ran's soft skin.

“I thought that would hurt.”

“No, it's small. I'll put a bigger one in soon so you'll really feel it stretch you. You'll like that, trust me.”

Ran looked hesitant, but he stayed passive. He was always very passive when sex was involved. Schuldig moved the plug in him, then slid it in and out to force the tight muscles to get used to it and relax. He allowed it to slip completely free and grabbed the bigger plug. It was still really small, but Ran was not used to much and would have a hard time forgetting it was there.

When he slowly forced Ran's body to take it he heard the kitten mewl and groan prettily. The widest part took some patience, but once inside it was lodged tight and he could barely move it.

“Keep it in until lunch and I'll give you a nice reward,” he purred.

Ran looked defiant, but he panted softly and his mind buzzed with excitement. Schuldig looked him in the eyes until he nodded consent.

“Good.” He telepathically told Brad what he had done. “Don't forget that I will know if you cheat.”

Ran squirmed and nodded. He liked this, did he? Schuldig sucked on Ran's lower lip.

They got up, dressed and had some tea. Schuldig liked tea, but he normally needed coffee. Sleeping next to Ran had the added perk of often being very well rested, probably because of his healing talent. Ran then started to go about his day like he would normally. He thought abut hovering, but Ran wouldn't like it. It was more fun with a willing toy.

Schuldig decided to go on with a little social experimenting. He was bored and the kittens were so trusting. Those were the only reasons needed. Schwarz had learned long ago to tell when he was lying, and in the current trench war it was very much a case of Us vs Them.

His first target was Omi, who despite being young and cute was far from stupid. He walked into the room under the pretense of looking for Nagi. To Omi's chagrin he spent a lot of time with Nagi.

“He's not here,” Omi told him tersely from where he was using his computer.

“I'm bored,” Schuldig complained. “Entertain me.”

“No,” Omi said surly.

“I can dig up some happy childhood memories for you...” he offered.

“Stay away from my head.” Omi sighed. “Talk about your childhood and I'll pretend to listen.”

Schudig smiled bitterly for the boy's benefit. “I grew up in an asylum. Hearing voices isn't something people take too well to. Nothing much to say about it,” he lied.

“Is that why you're an asshole?”

“If you knew all the twisted things going on inside people's heads you'd be a jerk too,” Schuldig said. He made his voice sound slightly offended, a little sad and walked away.

Omi was interested now, which made Schuldig smile in genuine delight. Sometimes he was too good. Acting skills were always useful anyway. He walked to Youji's room and sat in a pile of clothes that may or may not have a chair underneath. It looked like it should, but one could never be too sure. It was firm though.

It took a while for the fake-blond to notice. He had earphones on and his eyes closed, but turned the music off when he saw Schuldig.

“I'm bored,” Schuldig complained. “Entertain me.”

“Get out.”

“Please?” Schuldig tried the cute and harmless approach. It seemed to be able to sway the blond when others did it. “I'll be nice.”

“You're incapable of that.”

“Not true, I was a very well-mannered child.” Youji definitely wanted to swallow the bait. Schuldig kept his face innocent. “It's not my fault, Eszett made us into this. I just wanted to be normal.”

Youji took his headphones off. “Alright, fine. So what do you want to do?”

“Just talk, it's not like I can talk to Brad,” he said with a slight wince.

“What's it like, working for Eszett?” Youji asked softly. Thinking that he was smart and that he could get Schuldig to talk. Thinking Schuldig was weak and would be easy. Well, if that got him off...

Schuldig bit his lip and looked like he was hesitating out of fear. Then he lied up a sob story that was actually believable, and ran along the same one he had fed Omi with. The trick to telling lies was to never go too much over the top and to keep track of what you lied about.

He fiddled with his sleeves after he was done. Youji wasn't sure what to do, but Schuldig half-sobbed and ran off. Nothing like a dramatic exit to make people's thoughts linger on you.

Next on his target list was Ken. Unfortunately, the jock was never home much. Schuldig decided that he could do with a little sunshine. Ken was coaching kids. It was kinda cute, in that stupid way naïve normals had. It was just a short walk away.

He smiled when he picked up a bit of frustrated lust from Ran. Brad was tormenting the kitten.

When he arrived at the spot where Ken was currently having soccer practice he stood watching in the sidelines until they finished.

Ken walked up to him and seemed less than pleased to see him. “What are you up to?”

“I was just bored. We're supposed to be on the same side now. We should hang out once in a while,” Schuldig said with a small smile. He made an effort to think nice things so his eyes wouldn't give him away. Ken faltered slightly. The guy had earned some slack that first day they had merged the teams, but if he kept being an ass Schuldig would poke him back on the hostile list. “I can play,” Schuldig offered with a nod to the ball in Ken's hands.

“No mind tricks,” Ken warned.

“Don't worry, it gives me a headache to use it,” Schuldig lied. Ken would no doubt relay that to his buddies so they could compare notes about how to best get the upper hand on poor little Schuldig.

They started playing one on one, but some of the kids who had lingered joined in. Schuldig made a point out of being nice to the ones who had chosen his side even if it lost them points. He had a bigger goal with Ken. If they could lure both Ken and Ran away, Omi and Youji would have to reconsider their current path. Skill-wise he just wanted Youji and Ran, but he could be flexible.

It had been years since he had played at all and he had hated it then, but just kicking a ball around was doable. He admitted to himself that it was even fun. It had been too long since he had played without pressure. It didn't make it less manipulating, but it made him relax a little and smile a little more genuinely.

“Good game,” Ken said with his hand stretched out. Schuldig shook it.

“You too,” he grinned. “Need help carrying all this stuff home?”

“Sure.”

He helped gather cones and balls, then walked with Ken back to their hideout. They didn't speak any more to each other, but Schuldig knew he had Ken wrapped around his finger. At least until the next time the boy decided to have a tantrum.

Once he had dumped the stuff in Ken's room and taken a shower he went to find Brad. He wanted to gloat and Brad was a good audience.

“Just so you know, I'm being evil,” he said en lieu on a greeting.

Brad kept typing on his laptop as if nothing had happened. “Just so you know, I corroborated that story you fed Balinese and Bombay.”

“This is why I love you.”

“I also told them that you sometimes ran away and worked as a prostitute to pay for food and rent.”

“Even better.”

Brad shook his head and stopped typing, annoyed to not having gotten a rise out of the jab. “Bitch. What exactly are you looking to gain?”

Schuldig grinned. “All in due time.”

“Did you tell Ran that bullshit story too?”

“No,” Schuldig admitted. “And I was _nice_ to Ken. Also, I'm hungry.”

“I could cook for you.”

“ _No_! You're cursed. When you cook I get beaten with a golf club, or we nearly die, or Eszett shows up with bad news. Feel free to buy me food though.”

Brad had a wicked grin on his face. “Yeah? How about I buy you a car?”

Schuldig narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

“It's your birthday soon, and I wasn't allowed to spoil you before.”

“Oh, I do like being spoiled,” Schuldig purred softly. “Except that you will want to do something I won't enjoy...”

“We're going to review some old tapes, that's all, and it's not related. I had a vision of you reacting poorly. Just not why. I promise it's not a bribe.”

Schuldig shrugged. “Fine. Spoil me. I'm off to molest the cuddly kitten now.”

Brad trailed after him out of curiosity. He found Ran writing notes on the whiteboard Brad had dragged in. Job stuff. “Boring.”

Ran held up a finger in the air to stop him from disturbing. Brad's arms came around his shoulders while they waited for Ran to finish. He liked the hugs and the kisses. He like Brad's softer side.

“ _Think he'll like it?_ ” Schuldig asked. Brad shrugged, something he felt but barely saw in his peripheral vision.

Ran hesitated coming to them, but being slightly horny for a few hours always made people more willing to take risks.

Schuldig kissed Ran softly, then slowly progressed to making out. Brad still stood pressed to his back. It was nice to have so much attention on himself.

“Want a treat for being good all day?” Schuldig purred.

“Do I?” Ran asked. Suspicious. Defiant.

Brad reached past Schuldig and stroked Ran's cheek, “yes, you do.”

“You just don't want sex,” Schuldig filled in. “It's okay.”

Ran looked suspicious, but he wanted to be close. He wasn't sure about sex, but he wanted to be close.

“How about I let you take it out and then we can go out to eat?” Schuldig offered, stroking Ran's back slowly up and down.

“I love what a manipulative little shit you are,” Brad purred when Ran was out of earshot.

Schuldig twisted slightly so they could kiss. “I know.”

“Where are we eating?”

“Minmin?”

“Better take the subway then.”

 

 


	13. Nightmare

Ran woke up with a start. He was upright, out of the bed, down the ladder and across the room before he registered where he was and that it had just been a dream. Of sorts, anyway.

He looked the room over a few times just to be on the safe side. It was five in the morning and there was no way he was going to be able to sleep anytime soon. He took a deep breath to try to calm down his racing heartbeat, but it was little help. He tried his best not to think about the images he had seen in his mind.

Nightmares weren't new to him. He had plenty of those, but this wasn't the usual fare. This wasn't _his_. He had never considered the consequences of sleeping next to a telepath other than the obvious invasion of privacy when Schuldig reading his mind.

Schuldig had woken up as well. He padded over to Ran. Schuldig was not a morning person unless he either had something up his sleeve or hadn't gone to bed yet. Once they were close enough he wrapped his arms around Ran's neck. He hugged Schuldig back. He needed something warm and alive, and Schuldig was both. Or Schuldig needed something warm and alive, and Ran was both. It was a little hard to tell who was who for a while.

“Sorry. That was mine,” Schuldig mumbled into his hair, voice a little shaken. “Brad and I went through old tapes and I guess I started thinking about things better left buried.”

“Did that happen?” Ran asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“How are you so calm?”

“If I'm here, I'm not there.”

Ran cautiously held him tighter, noticing that the telepath was shaking. Thankfully it was early enough that no one should be up. Ran was sure they looked like scared little girls. Not how he wanted to be seen, and he guessed Schuldig wouldn't want to either.

“Sorry,” Schuldig mumbled again. The foreigner tugged at him and made him return to bed, then held him like a teddy bear. It was hard to start breathing calmer, but they both tried.

“How long ago was that?” Ran asked. It felt old. Faded.

“Before Schwarz. I had my own team when it happened, but obviously I lost them all so...” Schuldig spoke with his face pressed against Ran's hair.

“Why do I see it?”

“It's called bleeding or projecting. It's something telepaths do. Especially when it's too much for me to handle and there's someone friendly nearby I always seem to do it. It's not really a choice, it just happens. Like a pressure valve.”

The door opened and they both sat up on the bed, but it was just Brad. Schuldig was so relieved to see him it was almost comical. Ran almost felt like he should leave them alone, but he really did not want to be alone. Not now.

Brad hugged Schuldig close when he had climbed the ladder. “You okay?” He sounded tired, like he had just woken up. He looked like he had been sleeping. He looked a heck of a lot younger than Ran normally assumed he was.

Ran froze when Brad held a hand out to him. Schuldig mimicked the gesture a few seconds later. Hesitantly he closed the distance between them. He was hugged close and it felt too good to pass up on.

“Stay,” Schuldig said.

“Sure,” Brad answered softly. “Lay down, you're both shaking.”

Schuldig burrowed his face closer and mumbled something that might have been a refusal.

“I'll hold you, let's just get comfortable.” Brad gently shoved them until he had them side by side, with himself in the middle. Neither of them moved until Brad had settled, but once he had Schuldig attached himself to his side and rested his head on the older man's shoulder. Brad held him tight with one arm and kissed his face.

He looked at Ran, gently rubbing his shoulder.

“I could leave you two alone,” he offered. He hated how his voice almost broke. Just the thought of being alone was enough to make him want to scream, but he felt like the fifth wheel.

“No, come here,” Brad urged. “We would tell you if we wanted time alone.”

Ran bit his lip harshly, then laid down just as Schuldig had. It felt really nice to have Brad close. Safe, for want of a better word. He wondered if that was his feeling or if Schuldig was still bleeding over.

“What happened?” Brad asked Schuldig.

“I projected a dream... nightmare, whatever.”

“You're shaking like leaves and I'm halfway inclined to say you're both having panic attacks. What was the dream about?”

Schuldig stiffened a little and bit his lower lip. “I led Blau at the time. We bit off more than we could chew, got captured and the other four were killed. Slowly. Really slow and painful. They didn't hurt me enough to kill me, because they thought I was pretty.” Brad gently rubbed Schuldig's back. “You can guess why they kept me alive. It took a healer and two telepaths to put me back together again. I don't think about it much now, it just pops up once in a while.”

Ran realized he had a hand on Schuldig's shoulder, but didn't pull it away.

“Is there anything that triggers it that we should avoid?” Brad asked.

Schuldig shook his head. “No,” he said sulkily. “I killed all of them. Every single one. I called back to base. If I hadn't been pulled out I would have walked through twenty kilometers of dense forest to get back. Don't you _dare_ try to baby me.”

The way they stared each other down made Ran want to be anywhere else. When they were angry they were anything but cuddly.

Brad cradled the back of Schuldig's head with his hand. “I care about you. I'm not calling you a coward, I know you're not. We're not in Eszett anymore, it's okay.”

It made Schuldig relax a little.

Ran released the breath he had held once it was clear they wouldn't come to blows. Brad kissed Schuldig's face a few times before they kissed each other properly.

Ran almost jumped out of his skin when Brad kissed him, on the lips but without tongue. He could hear Schuldig snicker and when Brad drew back he was kissed by the German as well.

They settled down again. Schuldig eventually relaxed enough to fall asleep. Ran felt more unsure when he was left with just Brad awake, but the older man seemed a lot less threatening half naked and with his hair mussed.

He must have eventually dozed off. When he woke up sunlight lit the room below and gave a soft glow to the loft as well.

Brad stroked his cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I need to be fucked so badly,” Schuldig mumbled into Brad's bare chest.

“How _does_ your brain work?” Brad asked with honest interest in his voice.

“I'd suggest therapy,” Ran mumbled sleepily.

“I get my head checked by other telepaths regularly.”

“That explains so much.”

Brad chuckled. “Look at you being all mouthy, kitten.” He carded warm fingers through Ran's hair.

“No really,” Schuldig said seriously. “It's the best way. Sort of like getting up on the horse after you fall.”

“Right, you two have fun.” Ran tried to sit up, but Brad still had a hand in his hair, grabbed a chunk and used it to drag him back down.

“Bad kitty.”

“Yes, why have two therapy sessions?”

Ran looked between them.

“You can say no,” Schuldig assured. “Just trust me, it helps.”

Brad released his hair. “Maybe I have a better idea.”

Schuldig pouted.

“Beach.”

Schuldig whooped and practically jumped a meter into the air.

“You're not a natural redhead any more than he is, so it won't hurt,” Brad told Ran.

He huffed and went to get dressed. Schuldig was shoving things into a duffel bag when he got down from the loft, already dressed in casual clothes. Apparently Schuldig liked going to the beach. Ran packed a towel and a pair of trunks in a backpack.

“Shush, it's the only time Brad looks his age. Also, you are not wearing those.”

“Fifty?” Ran asked just as Brad passed him. It predictably earned him a hard slap on his ass. “Ow.”

“One year shy of thirty,” Schuldig stage-whispered.

“I think my brain just broke,” Ran mumbled into the sweater he was pulling on. “I was thinking forty?”

Schuldig bit his lip to keep from laughing. “No, he has seven years on you and I have two.”

“So, what are we supposed to do at the beach and why can't I wear them?”

“What else is there? Surf!” Schuldig grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “It's about an hour and half depending on who's driving.”

“To?”

“Kujukuri in Chiba. We're the same size, give or take a centimeter, so you're borrowing some of my stuff.”

“I can't surf.”

Schuldig grinned mischievously. “You can be taught new tricks. I have the feeling Brad passed up on sex, not the chance to rub his hands all over you.”

“Perverts, the lot of you.”

Schuldig still grinned.

“I called, we're expected, let's go,” Brad said from the doorway. “Nagi wanted to stay home since he'd have the house to himself.”

“We permanently rent a room from an elderly couple in case we need to wind down,” Schuldig explained. “Means we can store boards there. Also, we can shower instead of bringing water with us to rinse the salt off.”

Brad had a car that blended in, and it had a lot of space, but for all that it was clearly not built in Asia or America. There was too little plastic involved.

While Schuldig and Brad argued over who should drive Ran went to sit in the back. “Can't you just take turns like normal people?” he asked.

Schuldig pretended to have a heart attack, complete with sagging to the ground as if he was actually dying. “Me? Normal?” he wheezed.

Brad poked him with his foot. “Clearly, you're not well enough. Go sit.”

Schuldig did, but he wasn't pleased in the least. “But I like driving,” he pouted. Then he perked up with an unholy grin. “I'll just pick the music then.”

Ran found the drive dull enough to catch up on some sleep. He woke up when Brad reached back and stroked his hair. They had parked by a small house a little way from the beach. An elderly couple came out to greet them as soon as they were out of the car.

Ran noted they had at least two cats and a dog. Schuldig picked up one of the cats and snuggled it, ignoring the humans.

Brad introduced Ran to the couple. They chatted for a while, Brad being less stiffly polite and more genuine. He liked them, Ran realized. The old lady talked Brad into accepting her invitation for dinner.

Schuldig meanwhile fussed over the cat. When they walked to the beach it followed them and then hid in Schuldig's open bag when he put it down.

“What's with the cat?” Ran asked.

“She's mine,” Schuldig said. “I found her as a kitten in a park near our old place, and I had her for a year before Eszett figured out I had a pet. They told me I had to get rid of her, so I gave her to grandma and grandpa for safekeeping along with a little... trust fund, I guess. We go here so irregularly that it never popped up on radar. Otherwise they'd be dead now.”

“I never took you for a guy who'd adopt strays.”

Schuldig smirked. “Yeah. Me neither. I just took a liking to her.”

“Are they anyone's grandparents?”

Schuldig snorted. “No. Thankfully. Brad's family is tied up in Eszett and so is mine. Nagi has no one. Farfarello... he has relatives. Cousins and such. They just want to see him locked up. On paper you have relatives.”

Ran nodded slowly. “Ah. In Korea.”

“So, why not go visit?” Schuldig prodded. He had turned to Ran and every tiny bit of his body language was inviting him to confide in him.

“We're not close.”

Schuldig held the cat out to him. “Kitty will be sad if you don't tell.”

“Not working.”

The German just looked at him as if he knew it would just be a matter of time.

Brad hugged him from behind. Ran squirmed a little, but when Brad held firm instead of taking the hint he relaxed. “So,” Brad said near his ear, “surfing.”

“I don't think this is a good idea,” Ran objected.

“Oh, come on, we won't let you drown,” Schuldig insisted.

“I can swim.”

“So, no problem,” Brad said. “We'll start slow.”

 

 


	14. Recon

He sat in a café with Red who read the newspaper, or at least pretended to, while they kept half an eye on the target. The police didn't have any evidence, but they suspected a lot. Not that he cared about people breaking the law, but his new employer did.

The target left and went across the street to his workplace, Farfarello rose and followed as his shadow. Stealing the phone was easy. He trotted back to Schuldig's cat. He could tolerate that one, if only barely.

The target would stay at his office until seven and the go home. That left them with three hours. The office only had three employees and consisted of a room with an open floor plan. They had broken in and bugged the place last night.

Farfarello came back into the café and sat down opposite Red. He threw the smartphone on the table. Red took it before it skidded to the floor.

“Normally Schuldig picks the pin out of their heads,” Farfarello said. “No idea how to open it.”

Red shrugged and tested to see if it really was locked. “No need, there's no password for the lock screen.”

He skidded his chair so they could both see what was on it. Schuldig and Brad were cozy with the kitten so he leaned his chin on Red's shoulder. “How much evidence do we need?”

“Not much,” Red said quietly. “Just enough that we can show them he's a bad seed. They sometimes just take our word for it.”

Farfarello noticed an old lady frowning at them. He disliked people in general, and judgmental people in particular. He readied one of his knives wile Red flipped through different apps and documents on the phone, sending a few things here and there to his burnable. Farfarello supposed they had a hit that night and got off the kitten's shoulder.

“We're good,” Red said after a while. He got up and left the phone with the café staff, saying in passing that someone had forgotten it.

While he went out Farfarello followed more slowly, making sure Red couldn't see him slicing the old lady's throat on his own way out. If Red noticed him cleaning the blood off his blade on a napkin, he at least didn't comment.

Red drove them to the target's apartment. Farfarello could drive, albeit not legally, but it put a lot of strain on him since he only had one eye. He noticed himself getting tired even if headaches were an unknown concept.

“Can I do the kill?” he asked.

Red shrugged.

Farfarello smiled. “You're my kind of cat, Red.”

There was something off about him. Farfarello didn't like it. Red shouldn't be this cozy with them. He should snarl more and keep a distance.

“Should I worry about that?”

Farfarello scoffed. “You're asking me?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. I don't think you understand ownership very well, Red. You belong to Schuldig and Brad now. Brad would kill me outright, Schuldig would torture me until I killed myself. I have better things to do than die.”

 

 


	15. Family Night

“Sorry we're late, but Princess Ran had to change clothes. Workout pants apparently don't _work in_ public,” Nagi said as he led Ran into the common area.

“Sweatpants in public is just another way of saying you've given up on life.”

“That's cute coming from you,” Youji snorted.

“I never gave up.”

“Not from lack of depression,” Youji baited.

“Hey, be nice! Don't piss him off right before bedtime, I have to sleep with him.” Schuldig thought about it for a while. “There really is no ideal way to say that.”

“Can't we watch a comedy instead?” Farfarello asked.

“Action movies are comedies. Have you seen how they think guns work?” Schuldig pointed out.

Ran sat down on the floor with his back to the empty smaller couch.

“So, kitty cat,” Schuldig grinned, “we're having a movie night.”

Ran indicated the bound Weiss members on the floor, where the coffee table normally was. “Why are they bound? Apart from Youji being annoying?”

“They were thinking they could get away,” Brad smirked. “Obviously you were house trained at some point and come when called, so... now, we're watching action movies. Bundle up and focus.”

Farfarello and Nagi looked less than pleased. “Old mission tapes,” Nagi muttered. “You – _we_ – are supposed to learn from them.”

“I think they'll simply learn resentment,” Ran mumbled while looking at his teammates. Ken looked calm, like he was okay with it, but Omi and Youji were seething.

“Nothing new,” Nagi snorted.

“Maybe we have a reason to,” Omi muttered.

“In Eszett this is the equivalent of feeding you cookies and milk, stupid,” Nagi huffed.

Schuldig clicked a button on the remote and a grainy picture showed an empty room on the screen. There was a number in the lower corner, which wasn't a date stamp, and below it was a place name. A younger Brad, possibly still a teenager, soon came into picture. He was perfectly calm, even though he was brought in with his hands bound behind his back and surrounded by men in army uniforms. There was no sound, but Ran could see from their faces that the one interrogating Brad was taunting him and that Brad responded in kind.

“So, we're watching you get your ass kicked and tortured?” Youji asked wit an amused undertone. “Seems fun suddenly.”

The video did show Brad get beaten and then left alone with one of the passive men who had stuck to the background. A guard. Brad was doing a slight movement with his arms, easily masked as mere discomfort, but Ran knew that move. He'd gotten the handcuffs off. He made no other moves until the others were back in the room, at which point he rose and after a messy fight killed all of them.

The screen was black for a few seconds.

The next video was of Schuldig as a boy. It also had a number and a place name in the lower corner. He stood in the middle of a circle of others. At random they got up or sat down, all in perfect sync, while Schuldig stood still in the middle. After a while they all stood, Schuldig frowned and they all dropped like stones. Dead eyes staring into nothing.

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Youji whispered.

The screen went black again.

A training room showed up next. Brad, looking older than in the first video, was fighting another guy on a mat. Ran noticed the number from the first video in the corner matched. ID number perhaps? As Brad defeated the guy, another took his place. This went on until he was the only one standing.

Another black screen, another video of a Schuldig not quite into his teens yet. This one had audio. The instructor held the camera. Schuldig was sitting by a computer.

“Explain this to me again,” the instructor said in German.

“If I see and talk to them in real time I can control them,” the younger Schuldig explained. “I tried for fun.”

The video was paused and Schuldig and Brad replayed the conversation in Japanese. Once the video started again it showed Schuldig doing what he had said he could.

This proved to be more of an introduction when the next video showed a job Brad ran with a team Ran hadn't met. It was smooth even though they were doing a very complex and time sensitive operation.

The video after that showed Schuldig with Blau. Ran recognized them because he had seen them die. They seemed unorganized until it all came together at the end. Complex strategy, but well-executed. Ran rubbed his eyes. Viewing all that material had taken a while. He refused to think that he was upset over seeing Schuldig's former team. It shouldn't sting to see them.

“ _Sorry, projecting a bit_ ,” Schuldig's voice said in his head. Ran nodded.

“Still having fun, Balinese?” Brad asked.

“Tons, can we be released now?”

“One more,” Brad smirked. “Since we're all enjoying ourselves.”

He placed another disc in the DVD and started it. A pristine white room came into view. A mixed group of what had to be street thugs stood in the room. No one looked to be armed. Two bulky men dragged a boy trussed up in a straitjacket. They left him in the room and hurried out. Ran didn't recognize Farfarello until he turned to the camera. He had two eyes and his hair was a reddish brown.

“I don't think I wanna watch this,” Omi said.

On screen, Farfarello worked to remove the straitjacket and succeeded. The thugs put up a good resistance, but in the end they all died at the hands of the madman. The screen went black and Brad collected the discs.

“Now, what have we learned?” Brad asked.

“You're all psychopaths,” Youji answered.

Brad looked at Omi, and the boy simply glared.

“We need to be more violent?” Ken hazarded when Brad turned to him.

“I told you it was a waste of time on these idiots,” Schuldig snickered.

“There's one missing,” Ran said. While Ran understood that this was some type of lesson he really didn't know what they were trying to teach. It wasn't all about bragging. The tapes were all old, they likely had more recent material that showed their skills off without the misses. “Why not show us something more recent?”

Brad shrugged. “Almost. I figure you know what Nagi can do.”

“Mistakes?”

“Can we be let go _now_?” Youji demanded simultaneously.

“Are you trying to tell me that you can't get out of a rope, Balinese?” Brad chided. He nodded to Ran.

Farfarello produced a knife from somewhere on his person and let it clatter to the floor between Youji and Ken. “It's sharp, don't cut your fingers. You don't wanna know where it's been...”

Youji, wisely, didn't touch the blade.

“Why is it good to have a team?” Brad asked. “Ken?”

“Because they can help you,” Ken said without hesitating.

Schuldig deftly untied Ken, but left the other two bound.

“Good,” Brad praised. “Now, Omi, you have more than two team members. If you ask nicely someone other than Youji or Ken might help you.”

“I hate all of you.”

“Aw, don't say that,” Schuldig lamented. “Ran will get sad.”

“Aya isn't on _your_ team.”

“Manx says otherwise,” Brad smiled patiently. “She wanted him back in Weiss. If you don't trust me, you should at least trust your former team leader.”

“All you have to do is ask nicely and I'll untie you,” Schuldig offered.

“Ayan,” Youji whined, “untie me.”

Ran untied Omi and used the rope to make a collar with a bow around Youji's neck. “You should use the magic word.”

Brad chuckled. “That's not nice, Ran,” he chided gently.

“Oh, yeah, no, this is typical Aya behavior. You won't be so amused when he turns it on you. Please?” Youji said.

Ran untied his hands, thinking he could get out of the other rope just fine.

“Want to watch the tapes we have of you guys?” Brad asked. “I can assure you some of it is more interesting than watching our newbie misses.”

“That didn't look like mistakes,” Omi grumbled. “That looked pretty professional to me.”

“There were plenty. Just because the job is a success doesn't mean everything goes smoothly.” Brad smiled condescendingly.

“Yeah, I didn't exactly _enjoy_ having my eye torn out,” Farfarello scoffed. “It's an odd feeling. Like, it's attached so it kinda tugs on your skull.”

“Ew! Shut up!” Omi yelled. “What went wrong in the video when you killed them all with your telepathy then?” Omi asked Schuldig a few seconds later.

“Please, I tried twice. Eszett doesn't normally allow slip ups like that.”

“Is anything you've ever told us true? At all?” Omi asked next, then turned to Brad. “And you cover for him!”

Brad gently stroked Schuldig's long hair. “Of course I cover for him. I don't exactly mind and I like him infinitely more than I like you.”

Schuldig waved a disc. “Wanna see what candid camera caught?”

“Sure,” Ran said.

First they watched a much younger Omi kill a dog, which was disturbing. Then there was some footage of Youji and Ken training with their weapons. Ran stiffened when he saw Shion on the screen.

“Is that _you_?” Youji asked in shock when Ran saw himself appear on the video. “Wait, why are your eyes glowing?”

“We have more video showing that,” Brad said. “Kritiker seem to be quite interested in it.”

“Probably the light,” Omi guessed.

“It's part of why I survived everything,” Ran mumbled. “I don't know why it happens, it just does.”

“Is it like a talent?” Nagi asked.

“I can't control it,” Ran hedged.

“So how common is it to be a freak of nature, anyway?” Youji asked.

Schwarz and Ran all glared at him, but it was Brad who answered. “More common than you would expect. High level talents who can survive the toll of their gifts? We're rare, to say the least. Suicide is the most common cause of death in Eszett and it had nothing to do with the strict rules.”

“Don't listen to him, Aya. It's fine,” Ken said. “It doesn't matter.”

“It does explain things,” Youji said.

“Youji!” Ken hissed.

“Did Eszett approach you as a kid? And what exactly does your sister have?” Youji asked Ran.

Since there was no way he was answering those questions he rose up and walked out. He climbed up on the roof and watched a few workers leaving for home or going to work for the night shift.

He didn't doubt that Schuldig knew, but had he told? Ran guessed not.

It would be easier to just come clean to either Schuldig or Brad, but he didn't trust them just yet. They were growing on him, but he didn't want to risk being sent back. That had been his main concern before they struck against the Elders – that he would be found out and sent back.

He sighed into the cooling night.

As much as he wanted to trust the foreigners there was no way of knowing this wasn't all some elaborate plot to get close to Kritiker.

“ _Bitch please_ ,” Schuldig sent telepathically.

Ran huffed.

“ _Here kitty, kitty, kitty. The roof is a bad place to nap on._ ”

 

 


	16. Making Friends

Schuldig started changing clothes in the middle of the living room. It wasn't unusual for him to do that, but it freaked Nagi out every time. Not because Schuldig looked awful, but because he had absolutely no shame. “That's gross, go change in your room!”

“Oh, _sorry_ ,” Schuldig said. He threw his shirt so it landed on Nagi's head and continued to change. It was likely the man's way of showing some respect for Nagi's sensibilities. If he couldn't see, there was no problem. Or he was a jerk. There was always that possibility.

Nagi used his gift to squeeze the shirt into a tight ball that he flung towards Schuldig.

“Ow!” Schuldig mock-complained. He was a lot more relaxed and friendly now that they were free from Eszett. There was a lot less malice aimed at both the team and the targets. Both he and Brad posed less, which Nagi had not noticed until it started to go away.

“You have no sense of shame, do you?” he complained.

“Hey, if you're not nice I'll hook the showers up to the gas pipe.”

“That would require more work than you're willing to submit yourself to. What's the deal with Abyssinian?”

It wasn't true that Schuldig disliked work, nor was he lazy. Nagi knew few people who could be as effortlessly efficient as Schuldig. He just made it look like he was lazy. Most of his annoying personality seemed to be a front. A shield to protect himself.

“Huh?”

“Red. You like him.”

“Yeah.” Schuldig gathered his dirty clothes and went to his room to put them in the hamper. Nagi trailed after him.

“I just thought you and Brad would be together,” Nagi said while he fiddled with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“We are, and we're not changing that.”

Nagi frowned. “So he's just a toy?”

“No,” Schuldig sighed. “We haven't worked it out yet.” The German softened and touched Nagi's face. “You're sick again.”

“He made me breakfast.”

“Ran?”

Nagi nodded. He wasn't sure who he wanted to see Schuldig with. He was used to Brad, but Abyssinian was nice. He wasn't loud or touchy.

“It's not up to you, kid,” Schuldig said seriously.

“You stopped sleeping with Brad.”

“Temporary. Besides, it's not like we stopped -”

“Shup up!” Nagi interrupted. “I do not need to hear about _that_!”

“Look, I know we're your only family. We're not going to ditch you. Brad says it'll work out. Eventually.” Schuldig looked different when he was serious, more adult and in control. He was honest now and when he was Nagi had a hard time believing he even knew him. Schuldig was a prankster, a sadist, a wild child, and it didn't fit with his serious self.

Nagi walked over to one of the chairs in the room and curled up on it. Schuldig always found the comfiest furniture pieces. He was curious about the bed thing they had, but he found Abyssinian slightly scary and preferred to have him continue be nice.

“I gotta run. Also, Ran is pretty laid back. He won't kill you for snooping around.”

“I know you have a job today,” Nagi mumbled.

Schuldig threw him a worried look and left. Nagi stayed in his room, on the chair, until he fell asleep. It was just mid morning, but he was always more tired and emotional when he got sick.

When he woke up again there was a blanket draped over him. He checked the time on his smartphone, and concluded that it was too early for Schuldig to be back yet. He was the only one who would do little things like that. Brad sure didn't, though Nagi had seen him be gentle with Schuldig at times.

“Hey.”

His head spun around to the source of the sound. Abyssinian was standing in the room, leaning against the wall.

“Sorry, I'll leave,” he muttered. It was Abyssinian's room too, not just Schuldig's. It still smelled like Schuldig. Schuldig took up space like that. He left things everywhere and rooms started to smell like him really quick. Not a bad smell, just there.

“Stay if you want,” Ran said. Nagi wasn't sure what to make of it. He knew enough about Weiss to know that Fujimiya Ran was not the most social nor friendly cat. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

Nagi shrugged and stayed in his blanket nest. “Okay. Do I call you Aya or Ran?”

“Doesn't matter.”

Nagi poked the other chair with his foot. “Ran,” he decided, because that was what Schuldig had called him. “Sit. What are we talking about?”

“Food. You're allergic to a lot. Is there anything else you're allergic to? Something that might pop up on a mission?” Ran took a seat, but he was stiff. Not nearly relaxed enough.

It was a practical question, a safe enough way to start. Nagi rearranged the blanket and sat more comfortably. “It's not allergy like that, it's more that I'm sensitive. I won't stop breathing, I just get rashes or an upset stomach.”

The normally stoplight red hair was a faded brownish color, the roots growing out black. “Why red?” Nagi asked.

Ran frowned, but not at him. “I wanted to be different, but not different enough to get in trouble.”

“Are you wearing contacts?”

“No.” Ran quirked his lips in a small smile. “I used to have brown ones, to hide the color. And the glow.”

“What did you really want to talk about? I'm young, but I'm not naive.”

“I'm not sure. I want to see what you guys are like, I guess.”

“Evil. Sadistic. Freaks,” Nagi said seriously. Omi had called Schuldig those. “Omi thinks Schuldig would rape me if I stayed with him. Youji asked if Oracle beats me a lot. Manx asked if I was really smart enough to be in university or if Eszett had paid for the grades.”

Ran sat quietly and looked at him. He had the same look Brad did when he whined.

Nagi sighed. “I'm not a kid.”

“If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it probably is a duck.”

“Funny, but I'm not a Nazi either,” Nagi remarked in a dead monotone.

“It's fine. I was a total brat before... I just tend to forget I had a life before this. That I wasn't always like this.”

“I didn't have a life. Brad scared the crap out of me. He came by the orphanage a few times before he picked me up. I used to tell myself I followed him because he offered me revenge on the cruel world. To be the bully instead of the victim.” Nagi fiddled with the blanket. “But he was the only one to come for me. And no matter what anyone says, you always want someone to come for you, choose you. Even if he made Schuldig sign the papers.”

Ran nodded, Nagi could tell he sympathized more than understood. That was fine, everyone couldn't have a shit childhood.

“What are you studying?” Ran asked.

Nagi played with a corner of the blanket. “I swapped. I used to take computer engineering. Now I'm taking art. Brad wasn't too pleased I think, Schuldig just shrugged. I liked doing digital art for jobs. I'm not really talented at it, but I can make up for it by putting in more hours. What did you do before?”

“I went to high school. Worked at a restaurant for extra cash. Played video games. Got yelled at for my shitty grades. Sneaked out to be with friends at night. Drove illegally. I still don't have a license.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Kritiker just gave me one because I was driving. They assumed I had one, or they just didn't care either way.”

Nagi pouted. “I want to learn, but Brad says I won't reach the pedals.”

“You're not that short, I started before I was a teen,” Ran said, a smile tugging the corner of his lip but never breaking out. “He just babies you a lot.”

“No, he doesn't. What's the deal with you and Schuldig?”

Ran looked lost. “I wish I knew, we're fooling around mostly. I'm not good with people.”

Nagi snorted. “No? Really?”

“Bitch.”

“Still, I can't understand why Brad would allow it.”

Ran groaned.

Nagi's eyes widened. “They're not breaking up, they're going to drag you into it.”

“Something like that,” Ran muttered.

Nagi didn't know what to say or think, not really. He didn't want to think they'd use Ran like a toy, and Schuldig had said that wasn't the case. It just seemed likelier that there was just some novelty if they were ganged up. “I hope you know what you're doing,” Nagi finally said. “Brad and Schuldig are fierce about what they consider theirs and if you find someone else it _will_ get ugly.”

“Are you hungry?”

Nagi had too much practice keeping a straight face to laugh. “I could eat something. Also, your evasion tactics are shit.”

Ran huffed. “I can cook something.”

“Id' rather get out of here, if you don't mind. Idiot and Bimbo are making noise.”

 

 


	17. Toys And Training

Ran was surprised when Brad handed him a new katana. “Thank you,” he said quietly. A well made one to boot, he noted. He missed the old one for sentimental reasons, but this one would do nicely. There was little hope of retrieving the old one it from the bottom of the bay anyway.

“You're welcome. We're all getting new guns later, when they get here everyone will suffer through mandatory target practice.”

“What about cleaning them, picking them apart?” Ran asked. “I've figured out how to aim. Never got around to learning how to clean them.”

“If you're interested. I'm settling for everyone being able to fire one and hitting the broad end of a barn on the first try right now. Ken still tries to use one with the safety on. You had a throwing knife on you last we spoke, are you any good with them?”

Ran shrugged. “Passably. I always carry a knife of some sort.”

“He's very Farfie like that,” Schuldig said. “And it's more than just passably.”

Ran sheathed the sword and put it away.

“Also, you fucking heathen, you don't clean your gun?” Schuldig asked Ran, more than a little appalled.

“To be fair I never bother much until Schuldig showed up,” Brad said.

“You have no idea what I had to put up with!” Schuldig complained. “He never checked the guns over, didn't have a clue how to clean a house, no discipline! It was a nightmare. Took me forever to house train him.”

Brad snorted.

Ran started laughing, but stopped. “Wait, you're serious? You are. That's hilarious.”

Schuldig raised one eyebrow and cocked his head.

Ran gave in and laughed out loud.

Brad suddenly held his hand up. “Was that Farfarello?” They heard a scream and then the telltale sounds of a fistfight. “...and he doth appear,” Brad said in an irritated tone of voice. “Is this how parents feel?”

“I'll get sedatives, you're the only one who can hold him,” Schuldig told Brad.

“Ran, stay here until we come back. I don't need you getting in the way,” Brad ordered.

Ran nodded that he had heard, but he really didn't want to stay in his room like some disobedient child so he fully planned on disobeying.

“I mean it. Stay put,” Brad barked at him and then rushed out into the hallway. Farfarello was shouting something, and he didn't sound even remotely reasonable.

Ran sagged down on the fluffy chair closest with a feeling of utter annoyance. Somebody needed to teach Brad that he wasn't the only one in the country who could get things done. The guy might be a decent leader, but that didn't mean the rest of them were incapable. He wondered if Brad felt the need to control everything because he was a precognitive. Ran wondered a little how it felt when there was no other choice but to stand back and watch even though you didn't like the event.

He was distracted form his thoughts when he heard Omi shouting. Apparently Youji had heard too, because he could hear the playboy run down the hallway. At some point he had learned to distinguish the sounds of their different styles of running and walking.

Then the noise died down.

Schuldig came back first. He flopped down in the other chair with a dark look on his face.

“What happened?”

“Omi thought he could handle Farfie.” Schuldig grimaced and flexed his right hand. “Turns out that wasn't such a good idea. Neither of them will be doing jobs for a few days.”

“Don't we need Omi for the next one if Farfarello is out?”

“Yeah. Fuck, he'll just have to deal. I want the new system already so we don't need someone to play dispatch. This old crap is driving me nuts,” Schuldig complained. “As if I didn't already have enough fucking things to contend with.”

Ran took Schuldig's hand and checked it over.

“I'm fine,” Schuldig said quietly. He seemed surprised that Ran cared.

“Why do we even use a radio? Or are we too many for you to link?” Ran asked just as Brad returned. He studied Schuldig's hand before letting go.

Schuldig huffed. “It doesn't really put a strain on me if we're operating in smaller groups, but I would have to be there every time. Which, honestly, I am anyway.” Schuldig said the last part with a glare towards Brad.

“We use the radio to keep the idiots calm. It would be nice as back up, I suppose. Sometimes Schuldig could use a break,” Brad said with a guilty grimace. “Youji is patching Omi up.”

Ran nodded. He hadn't even thought about the boy. It bothered him that his instincts were screaming at him to look over Schuldig and Brad, but he only felt a whisper towards his old team. It wasn't that he felt they could handle themselves either, if anything he should worry more over them than the former members of Schwarz.

“You okay, Brad?” Schuldig asked. “Red's worried.”

“I'm fine.”

Youji came stomping down the hallway, but he stopped in the doorway. He had blood on his face.

“He needs a hospital.”

Ran rose and walked over to Omi who had trailed behind Youji. He did look a mess, but Ran suspected it was mostly shallow cuts. He wasn't stopped from reaching out, so he poked until he was satisfied there was nothing serious. He needed to show he cared, for his own sanity more than anything else. “One needs stitches, the others are going to heal just fine if you keep them clean.”

Brad was snapping latex gloves on, but where he had gotten the first aid kit Ran had no idea. They were just so _fast_ and _quiet_ sometimes. “I'll stitch.”

“You'll need more light,” Ran said. The light in his and Schuldig's room was cozy more than it was practical.

Nagi appeared seemingly out of nowhere and roughly picked Omi off his feet with his gift. He floated the other teen to the dinner table.

Brad cleaned the wound and stitched with a practiced ease. Youji looked lost, like he knew he was the fifth wheel. Ran sort of felt the same, but he had Schuldig standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder. The touch grounded him a little, calmed him down.

While Brad went on to clean and bandage the smaller cuts Youji finally found some use for himself in removing the wrappers and other trash Brad left on the table.

“Don't pull that shit again,” Nagi told Omi before letting him go. He must have held his mouth shut, because Omi came up cursing and shouting the minute Nagi let go.

Brad cleaned up and went to wash his hands. Schuldig led Ran back to their room with a light tug on his sleeve. Nagi followed them. Once Brad arrived and the door was shut Nagi rubbed his face and coughed.

Ran placed a hand on his forehead. “You have a fever.”

Nagi nodded. “It happens a lot.”

“Kinetics have a shit immune system generally speaking,” Schuldig sighed. “They think it's something to do with how the genes mutate to create the talent.” He wrapped his arms around the teen from behind. “You hanging in there?”

Nagi snuggled into Schuldig's embrace and gave a weak nod. “Can I sleep here?”

“Sure,” Schuldig said softly. “Maybe you should think about who you piss off in advance next time?”

“He's mean,” Nagi complained.

Ran was still right in front of Nagi. He stroked the teen's hair briefly. “Want something hot to drink?”

 

 


	18. Rebels

Brad had summoned Schuldig, Nagi and Farfarello to a meeting. They were in one of the better restaurant the city had to offer because it was away from Kritiker's prying eyes and ears.

“Why are we here, why are you paying, what's the catch?” Farfarello asked as he shoved the last bits of food into his mouth.

“We need to discuss a few things.”

Nagi poked his food rather than eat it. Brad counted down the seconds until the boy gave the Irishman his plate.

Schuldig and he were done eating, the German was toying with the dregs in his wineglass with a blank expression. They had imposed a rule, or rather _Schuldig_ had imposed a rule, about not discussing work while they ate if they could avoid it. Schuldig liked things like that. Family things.

“Done,” Farfarello proclaimed and leaned back in his chair. Trust the Brit to eat anything even remotely edible. In this case it was very good food, but even at grease joints Farfarello would finish off their food if they didn't.

“Weiss aren't behaving the way I predicted,” Brad admitted easily. “Things have changed compared to the intel we had on them before the Elders fell. What have you seen?”

“Omi is bitter, Youji is a drunk, Ken is... struggling,” Nagi rattled. “Ran is nice.”

“He shouldn't be,” Farfarello muttered. “He's off.”

Brad nodded. As much as he liked the complacency, it didn't fit.

“Is he autistic?” Farfarello asked. “He doesn't understand how other people work. At all.”

“I'm not getting that vibe,” Schuldig said. “He is very clueless about social norms, though. I thought he was stupid at first, he's like a child. But he's actually smart, which makes it odd.”

Farfarello hummed. “It's like his story doesn't fit, he was _eighteen_ , right? Eighteen before any major catastrophes happened in his life. He should be much more normal than Omi and Ken even with a depression dragging him down. He should have all social skills down to pat.”

“Two years with Kritiker before Weiss, almost two in Weiss,” Schuldig added. “Four years with the Fujimiyas. Fuzzy memories, maybe a few years, boarding school. It's like he's younger.” Schuldig muttered mostly to himself. “Younger or had a very boring life.”

“There's no record of a boarding school,” Brad interjected. “And what did you mean with four years with the Fujimiyas?”

“He's not who he says he is. Name's Jun Han. He _is_ related to Aya Fujimiya, but they aren't siblings,” Schuldig explained as if it was common knowledge. He often got used to ideas and then forgot to tell.

“And this wasn't worth mentioning before?” Brad asked.

Schuldig shrugged apologetically. “It didn't matter enough.”

“So, the real Ran is where?” Nagi asked.

“They swapped,” Schuldig said with another shrug. “I never got a clear name for the place. He knows the phone number, and he sometimes called to ask about things, but not since he joined Kritiker. He feels safer being dead to the world.”

Brad held his phone out to Schuldig. The German easily typed in a number with a Russian prefix. He handed it back to Brad once it was ringing.

There were two things in Russia that bothered Brad, one was a hardcore Eszett facility and the other was the Eszett defectors who had ganged together.

Schuldig nodded when a voice answered.

“I have a few questions about the boy pretending to be you,” Brad said in a no-nonsense voice. He stuck to Japanese.

“He's dead,” the voice answered simply. “He has been dead for four years.” It didn't even sound similar to Ran, the Japanese was differently accented too. More... perfect.

“No, he's not. Neither is your sister.”

“Who is this?”

Brad hoped to all Hells he wasn't talking to some random civilian and gave his code number. Both Eszett and the rebels would be able to identify him. There was a vague background chatter before a new voice said: “You'd better not have harmed him, Oracle.”

“Not much,” Brad answered honestly. “I need to know a few details since he isn't who he says he is. Like, who is Jun Han?”

“I am, the boy got my name. You can look it up under Project 67.” There was a brief pause. “Now, tell me, how did all three Elders die?”

“Painfully,” Brad answered and hung up. He toyed with his pone, spinning it on the table. “I think we just made contact with the rebels.”

“If you're wrong,” Farfarello said ominously.

“They won't send anyone yet,” Brad assured. He sometimes worried about Eszett sending retribution their way too. “Right now they're more worried about keeping Europe in check. Asia was always an offshoot.”

“If we dig too much in their closet they will rethink their priorities,” Schuldig said. “Series 60 is cloning.”

“Yes,” Brad agreed. “The question is – who?”

“Oh please, that was Chameleon,” Schuldig answered, again acting like everyone else knew what he did. “He's the only Asian to really be worth it. He worked with my parents. Eszett pared them up because they were the best, the two best telepaths with the only high-level telekinetic who has a secondary talent.”

“I've met him,” Farfarello said quietly. “He's a fire-breather as well.”

“Why _Chameleon_? That is a description and not a random name, right?” Nagi asked.

“Because he could blend in all over Asia,” Schuldig answered. “They dropped him in a lot of places and he picked up the customs and language in a flash.”

Nagi frowned. “Except, if Ran is his clone...”

“He should have his talents,” Brad confirmed. “At least in theory. Practically it's hard to make it work. Cloning people in general was easy for the scientists Eszett commanded, but the trick is making the talent kick in as it should. A lot of clones end up with latent talents.”

“He heals himself,” Schuldig objected. “That's not latent, it's very active and kicking. Fuck, he even fixed my back. Eszett's healer couldn't manage that. Also, I've met Chameleon and,” Schuldig shook his head, “they're perhaps somewhat alike, maybe, but they're _not_ copies. I don't think we're dealing with simple cloning here. Eszett did try to engineer talents for a while.”

“Maybe he's so calm because he doesn't have to hide,” Nagi suggested. “He couldn't have told Kritiker.”

“They suspect the sister since Eszett showed interest in her, but they have nothing on file about Ran. Plenty of odd occurrences but no solid speculation on them,” Brad said. “They look at things from the point of view of a normal, I doubt they'd catch anything even if it was more obvious.”

Farfarello started juggling two knives. His calm face showed he was thinking. “Still. He never snaps. He doesn't challenge us. Having a talent should make him bolder. Is he grown?” Farfarello mused. “You know, born then speedgrown into an adult? He doesn't know how to act so he goes with the flow.”

“That would explain the memories,” Schuldig shrugged.

“What made Chameleon so good at blending in?”

“Quick learner,” Schuldig answered in a bored tone. “Smart, I suppose.”

“I'd say Ran has that,” Nagi said. “I've watched him watch me. He's interested in how I make things move, but he doesn't seem to connect the dots. What if he does have the talents and just doesn't know how to use them?”

“Eszett would have taught him,” Brad objected. “A grown clone is a ten million dollar investment, minimum. No way do you just allow it to wander aimlessly.”

Schuldig waved a hand in the air to dismiss it. “No, if he named the kid after himself it's his. Ran's his. Han easily has ten times that much money from his time with team One. They probably did more than one attempt and killed the others off. Suppose it never worked how they wanted it to? Ran could just be a souvenir – and if he switched with a cousin... the real Ran must have been interested in Eszett.”

“Perhaps better tempered?” Brad mused. “That boy has some impressive anger management issues. Or he did. He's calm since he came back from the dead.”

Farfarello hummed. “Death might have fucked with his brain, but if he's grown he could just have settled. Eszett likes smart people, so accepting the real Ran would be no issue. The real Ran probably is smart or at least interested enough in the right subjects to seem smart. They switch. Why let the clone go, though?”

“Have you guys noticed that Ken seems to like Ran?” Nagi asked.

Schuldig nodded. “Platonic, but strong. They all like him in different ways. Omi because he's a good assassin, Youji... do I need to tell you why?”

“Do I really have to be sedated tomorrow?” Farfarello asked.

“Yes, dumbass,” Brad scoffed. “You know we have to punish you when you go crazy.”

“Omi is a little bitch,” Schuldig yawned. “He and Bitchinese should get together.”

“Why don't we just tell them that he's not crazy?” Nagi asked. He put his jacket on and burrowed into it. Brad refrained from cuddling the sick boy; that was Schuldig's job.

“ _I'll tell him you really do care one day or the other_ ,” Schuldig threatened Brad telepathically.

“I am crazy, I'm just not psychotic,” Farfarello corrected. He smiled creepily at Nagi. “What was the plan with the sob stories, Guilty?”

“I wanted to see if they would try to use it against me. They still believe some of it, so who knows?”

Brad leaned back in his chair. “Omi bothers me. He'll be trouble. Ran won't.”

“He's crazy. They all are, but Omi is worse than the other three,” Schuldig drawled. “Hello designed sociopathic personality disorder. Kritiker fucked him up good.”

Farfarello put his knives away. “Why, if he knows about Eszett, would Ran join Kritiker?”

“Eszett wanted Takatori alive?” Schuldig suggested. “No small amount of hatred there.”

“He hasn't made contact since he supposedly died with his parents. Who told him Eszett wanted Takatori alive?” Farfarello persisted.

Brad sat up straighter.

Farfarello grinned slowly. “Know what I think? I think we're all assuming he's clueless. We're assuming Eszett would let go of a top notch healer and trade for a normal. We're assuming a lot and none of it sounds like Eszett.”

“Unless he managed to hide it.”

“Mm. I've been scanned for talents,” Farfarello said slyly, “they do it with a telepath. Alpha, to be precise, if she's available. If he can hide things from _Alpha_ I'm willing to bet fire breathing and telekinesis is not what we should expect.”

“There's also the possibility that he manifested late,” Schuldig said. “It might not have been there when they looked, just a latent _something_. She does so many scans she could have been too bored to dig very deep. Or... she knows and didn't report it.”

“She's loyal, though,” Brad said, with a tiny hint of a question.

“Alpha?” Schuldig laughed. “No. Mom isn't loyal to Eszett. She hates them more than you.”

“She's your _mother_?”

Schuldig looked defensive more than surprised. “It's in the file.”

“I never asked for all of it,” Brad admitted. “Things were going smooth, I didn't think about it by the time they stopped withholding it.”

“By that, of course, you mean that I'm an awesome shag,” Schuldig leered.

“This still bothers me,” Farfarello said sharply. “If Ran belonged to Eszett, which seems fucking likely right now, why would he join Kritiker? What could they possibly offer? Eszett pays better. Takatori wasn't going to be kept alive permanently. Hell, they would have served him Takatori's head on a silver plate to gain a healer of any caliber.”

Brad frowned.

“He tried to hide it from me,” Schuldig said. “That he can heal, I mean. I'm assuming he only told Brad the bare bones of it.”

“He showed more than told,” Brad confirmed.

“Yeah,” Schuldig said. “I do that a lot too. Saves me from having to tell exactly how much I can do and how strong I am.”

“Why Kritiker, scatterbrain?” Farfarello repeated.

Schuldig was silent, pointedly silent.

“Mastermind?” Brad prompted.

Schuldig sighed. “Because they had his sister, okay? Cousin. Whatever. He thinks of her like a sister.”

“They actually have enough balls to engineer events?” Farfarello asked.

“Oh, not Kritiker as a whole, just Shuichi. I think he panicked when Ran went after Reiji. The girl was just unconscious, not in a coma, but that's an easy enough thing to fix. Eszett purged her blood of all chemicals, that's why she woke up.”

“Eszett has enough balls to engineer events,” Farfarello said. “Do we know he's not planted?”

“If he is, he doesn't know it.”

 

 


	19. Art

Youji had fallen behind him. Ran thought he seemed distracted, but there were a lot of guards according to their intel, so he avoided talking. It wouldn't do any good to risk getting shot over some idle chit chat. Youji usually got his shit together when he got his adrenaline worked up, and Ran often found himself liking Balinese a lot more than Youji.

He was halfway through a narrow hallway when a group of security guards burst out from a door and effectively cut him and Youji off from each other. He had no idea just how far back Youji was, but he hadn't caught up yet. The damned mansion had near invisible doors, and the blueprints Kritiker had were outdated by a decade. He hated surprises on missions.

The guards didn't seem to keen on spotting him either. They pulled out their weapons and charged him, thinking safety in numbers would play in their favor.

They mostly relied on guns. When Ran rolled to avoid a shot one of them was quick to get a boot in his stomach to stop the momentum. They didn't shoot, oddly, but they could be low on bullets. In the movies people never ran out, but in real life a magazine was emptied quickly and out of the few that hit most bullets tended to miss vital organs. Moving targets were difficult. He was just down a few heartbeats, but they landed enough kicks that he felt properly tenderized. He was up as soon as he could, staying down was a sure way to get killed.

He could heal himself, but he wasn't sure how much he could actually survive.

He couldn't see Youji, so he ran off and turned to face the guards in a room where he had more space to use his katana properly. Using a weapon you were familiar with helped. He'd killed a lot more with the sword than with any other weapon.

They managed to get him on the floor a second time, which he thought was downright embarrassing. He wasn't a rookie. They had decided kicking him was more fun than shooting him, which saved his life at least. He managed to get up again, somehow, and took them down as fast as he could, managing to stay on his feet.

It had taken almost ten minutes to kill them, which was too long. They needed to be further in and get to the target before he bolted. Seeing as the house was a maze, there was probably hidden escape routes. His ribs hurt and he was sure he had some ugly bruises, but he was in mission mode and nothing short of killing the target was going to be enough to allow him to relax.

“Balinese?” he asked into the little headset. No reply. Ran started backtracking his steps, thinking Youji was in trouble. He was two corridors back when he noticed an open door and Youji chatting with Omi.

About stolen art. While art was Youji's territory, they weren't going to torch or blow the place up. It could wait.

“Move, Balinese,” he growled.

He didn't look back, but he heard Youji's footsteps, and a quickly ended conversation.

“Most of this belongs in museums, they look authentic,” Youji whispered to him when he caught up.

Ran didn't reply. He was pissed enough to start a fight, but he needed Youji even more now that he was injured. “You can barely see the doors until the guards open them and I don't want to get shot,” he whispered back. “Keep your eyes off the art until everyone has been disposed of.”

Youji sighed, but complied. They bumped into trouble again only when they ended up in an empty ballroom with Ken and Schuldig in the other end of it. Schuldig was using a knife, which meant he was out of ammo, or close to, and that was troubling enough since Ran was sure he had seen him pack at least three spare magazines.

Ken was limping badly, at least he seemed to be backing Schuldig up. Ran still felt responsible for all of them, and he wanted to make sure they performed as they should. On the other hand he would love to just hand over Youji to Brad. The guy could hit a lot harder than Ran could.

There were a lot of hostiles in the room. Too many for it to be reasonable, but the target wasn't there. Ran looked around and finally spotted the target and a few guards passed the ballroom's main entrance, so he shouted for Schuldig and took off. The German was closest to him, and he was fast.

“ _I have enough bullets left to get the bodyguards_ ,” Schuldig sent telepathically.

“Get the target,” Ran shouted instead of trying to figure out how telepathy worked. He would never get past the guards fast enough, and he didn't want a chase. He engaged the guard closest to him, thinking that if Schuldig just nailed their boss the goons would likely lose some courage. He hurt too badly to think he could nail all of them on his own.

Ran saw the target go down with a bullet hole between the eyes past the guards he was fighting. It was enough distraction for the guards to be easier to kill. They killed them off together, then went back to Youji and Ken.

As soon as the guards were dead Youji and Ken started chewing them out. Schuldig snarled and threw his knife at Youji, then grabbed Ran by the shoulder and walked off. They were soon walking back home instead of going in the cars with the others, both pissed off. A little fresh air normally helped calm you down enough to not kill your team members.

Schuldig shared what had happened on his end by showing rather than telling. It was quicker, and Ran doubted Schuldig could unclench his jaw from how tight his expression was.

“Good job, by the way,” Ran said to his seething companion ten blocks later.

“You too,” Schuldig said after a bit. “Can I go back to plotting murder now?”

“Kritiker will know.”

Schuldig sighed irritably. “If I find a fuck, I'll give it to you. I'm so sick of babysitting, you have no idea.”

They kept walking in silence. The air surrounding them was calmer when they were closer to home. Schuldig had even started relaxing his jaws. Ran was ignoring the pain he was in, it couldn't be too fatal if he could still think straight. It just hurt.

“Looks like we're the last in,” Schuldig said when they reached the old factory.

Brad was waiting for them outside. He was dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt like he normally was when he wasn't working. The guy probably thought that was casual. He had stayed back to keep an eye on Farfarello who was still drugged to his gills and locked up. “According to Ken and Youji you two ditched them in a room full of hostiles. According to Nagi you also took out the target together. That wasn't the plan.”

Schuldig snorted. “We got the job done. Shut up.”

“I am trying to get some teamwork drilled into you all. Efficiency isn't the primary right now. I have another issue; you changed the code names.”

“We did?” Ran asked.

“I checked some of the audio and video Nagi brought in. I haven't gotten around to much, but he pointed out where you called Schuldig 'Blue'. Right before you left the other two.”

“Everybody does that behind your back, Black,” Schuldig said in a snappy tone. “We could call ourselves Rainbow and use our colors as code names.”

“Careful, Mastermind, or I'll consider that seriously. Injuries?” Brad looked the telepath over.

“Nothing big,” Schuldig said a little softer. “Make me babysit again and I will take it out on your hide.”

Ran shook his head when Brad looked over to him. The lie was automatic, the rest of Weiss never offered help unless you demanded it, and he was pretty sure he was on his own with Schwarz. No matter how cuddly they sometimes were.

He just wanted to curl up and sleep for a day or two. And shower.

Oracle seemed satisfied. They walked inside and Schuldig went straight for a bathroom. Brad steered Ran into his room/office with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Since you two apparently work well together, I have a job that needs to be done. Pick up the details later. Schuldig knows about it already.”

“Sure. That's all?”

“No.” Brad grabbed his chin roughly. Ran winced when Brad pushed on his bruised side. “As long as I lead, your health is a concern of mine. Lie to me again and you will regret it.”

Even though there hadn't been much force behind it, Brad's hand on him hurt. The grip on his jaw was rougher, but was more of a discomfort. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed in English through gritted teeth.

“I'll ask again. Injuries?” Brad demanded in Japanese, ignoring Ran's outburst.

Ran waited a few seconds after he had let go. Ribs, when damaged, hurt like Hell. “Pretty sure a few ribs are fractured and I got kicked enough that I probably have half a dozen bruises as well. They got me down twice, just a few seconds.”

“And you walked home with that?”

“Too busy being pissed. It's not like it matters as long as I can do the missions.” Kritiker might not want them dead, but otherwise showed a blatant disregard for their health.

Brad glared at him. “It matters. I'll give you two options, there is no third. I will check you over myself, or I will drive you to a hospital.”

“I'll be fine.”

“There is no third option,” Brad repeated frostily.

Ran stiffened at the tone – the memory of them being enemies too recent for him to not react to it.

“You had better know what you're doing, Crawford,” Ran decided after a short internal debate. He had been through enough tonight, going to a hospital or clinic would take too much time. He wanted to curl up and sleep. A pissed off Oracle was not his idea of a good time, but he would take his chances.

“I do. Go grab some fresh clothes. And call me Brad,” Brad said in a softer voice.

Ran walked to his room and did as he was told, making sure he got the looser cotton clothes he used to work out in. Brad waited outside the largest bathroom with a first aid kit so Ran walked past the older man and into the bathroom.

Brad got in after him and locked the door. “Clothes off.”

He was not shy about being naked, and there was nothing awkward in the way Brad touched him. It hurt when he checked some areas for damage to the bones underneath the bruised flesh, but overall he was gentler than Ran had expected he was capable of. He firmly told any building respect for the foreigner to go hide somewhere dark. That he wasn't an asshole all hours of the day did not make him a nice guy.

“We really should get you to a hospital. I'd want an x-ray to rule out any damage to -”

“I'll sleep it off.”

Brad narrowed his eyes at the interruption. “I know a bit about how that talent of yours work,” Brad said, looking skeptically at Ran's stomach, sides and lower back. “It won't save your ass if you bleed to death before it can really kick in. I also know a bit about diagnosing injuries. That looks like internal bleeding to me.”

“You know nothing. Was I dead or alive when you dumped me at the hospital?”

Brad grabbed his shoulders. “I'm not taking the chance you won't be able to do it twice.”

“Can I shower now?” Ran looked away from the older man. He was uncomfortable with being shown concern. Brad was being bitchy because he cared. He liked knowing that he had someone making sure he was alive.

Brad nodded and made a dismissive gesture, but made no move to leave the room. Ran ignored him and got into the shower. The hot water made the bruised and injured parts burn and sting. He was used to it, so he soaped up and got clean.

“ _Be a good boy and you might get a lollipop!_ ”

“You wouldn't know any effective ways of gagging telepaths, would you?” Ran asked out loud, not really expecting any help.

Brad chuckled. “You will either figure it out on your own, or Schuldig can tell you. Until then, I'm only going to reign him in if he's messing up missions or cripples the team.”

He had never been much for long showers, so barely a few minutes after getting in he was getting out of the shower stall. The sore muscles felt better. It didn't help that the more he relaxed, the stiffer he got from the pain. He wasn't sure bending over to dress would be a good idea with how his abs felt. Still, Brad was barely off the enemy list so he was reluctant to ask for help.

“You sure you want clothes on?” Brad asked gently when Ran winced while he dried himself off.

Ran shook his head, patting himself dry a little more carefully and ignoring the way his eyes watered. “I'm thinking no. There any painkillers here?”

He never liked taking pills, but he never liked pain either.

Brad waved a pack under his nose, then gave him a chart. When he was younger he had trouble swallowing pills, but in recent years he had learned to swallow them dry with little trouble. He wasn't sure what the daily dose was, but four seemed like a good number so that was the amount he swallowed.

“Bed time.”

“You're not my father,” Ran muttered. He had planned on going to bed anyway, but damned if he was going to be _sent_ there.

Brad pushed Ran toward the door and scooped up the clothes. “Bed. Don't argue for the sake of arguing.”

“No shower sex?” Schuldig asked when Ran opened the door and stepped out naked. “Holy shit, that looks bad. Fuck, I knew you were in pain, but that is not just a little bruise.”

“I'll live.” He started walking to their room, but Schuldig steered him to Brad's.

“If you get up, you won't be able to climb down.”

“I'm fine.”

Schuldig, who Ran had never accused of playing entirely fair, pushed a finger into his bicep. A bruise he wasn't completely aware of turned out to be more painful than it had any right to be. “Mhmm. Steel toed boots is my guess.”

Ran was pushed into Brad's room and Schuldig did a mockery of tucking him in like a kid. He took Ran's dirty mission clothes from Brad before he left. Brad put the clean clothes next to the bed on a nightstand. Ran put the pill chart he still clung to on top of his clothes.

He was naked in Brad's bed. He was sure he had had a nightmare about this once. Still, when the older man checked his forehead for a fever he felt safe. Brad had been the one to help when Schuldig had projected that nightmarish memory.

“It'll help with the bruising.” The man waved a tube of some sort of cream and Ran relented.

He thought Brad enjoyed running his hands all over him a little too much. The touch was far from professional this time, strong hands teasing when they weren't rubbing the cream into his skin. Despite the pills starting to take effect, Ran was in too much pain to get hard. It felt nice even so.

“Schuldig will spend the night with Nagi,” Brad said. “I need to check in on Farfarello every once in a while. Can you sleep alone?”

Ran nodded.

Yet, he was awake an hour later. Time drags when you try to sleep and Ran was tempted to just get up.

“Liar,” Brad said softly. He took his laptop and sat next to Ran on the bed.

Ran changed his position to look at the screen, because he was somewhat interested in what Brad was up to.

He fell asleep listening to Brad type on his laptop.

He woke up from a nightmare sometime before nine in the morning. He had sat up in bed without knowing why, but fear often gave the body a push. It made his abdomen hurt a little. Nowhere near as bad as it should, and the ribs felt fine.

“Nightmare?”

Brad was still working, he noted with some surprise, but had moved back to his desk. “I take it sleep is for the weak.” It would be pointless to either confirm or deny Brad's question.

The older man saluted him with a coffee mug. “I still need to poke Farfarello every once in a while since he's heavily sedated. Stay in bed, if you get up you're going to fall on your face.”

“I don't like being coddled.” He fell back into the soft bedding and got comfortable. Or as comfortable as he could. He still felt sore.

“I don't like unnecessary injuries,” Brad countered. He put a foot on the desk and pushed the office chair away so that he could more easily turn it to look at Ran. He put his socked feet up on the edge of the bed and leaned back, taking a swallow from his mug. “And I don't like you keeping everyone in the dark. Tell me how Weiss normally handled injuries.”

“Omi patched Youji and Ken up for the most part. I took care of my own by myself.”

“You need to learn to ask for assistance. You're too subtle for them to notice when you're off your game or when you need help. You didn't even tell Youji you had been in trouble last night, he thought you were pissed because he had lagged behind. I am not going to baby you next time and talk to him for you.”

“You talked to him? Why?”

“Did you notice that these are all smaller issues I'm complaining about?” Brad looked mostly bored by the topic. “You're good, I just need you up to my standards. And preferably talking. Do you need an extra day off? You're staying in bed today.”

“Why?”

“Even the Devil takes care of his own, Ran.”

“It's not like I won't heal, Crawford.”

“Just call me Brad, for the love of God. This isn't just business, it's as close to a home as we'll get, so call me by my name.” Brad rose from the chair and put the mug on the desk. He walked over to Ran and sat down next to him on the bed instead. “Let's see how bad it is today.”

Ran let him check the wounds without arguing, but he did blush and growl when Brad brushed one of his nipples with a thumb and then kept the digit lightly pressed to it. “You do heal quick. So sensitive,” Brad whispered in an amused voice. He brought his free hand to the other and pinched it.

The spike of pleasure dulled the pain, and it made his cock throb. Ran had no idea why he wasn't telling the older man to stop. Apart from the fact that he enjoyed it, that reason was clear enough without further examination. “Pervert.”

“Oh, I am. Tell me to stop and I will.”

Ran worried his lower lip and blushed deeper, but he wasn't about to object. Brad lowered his head and bit down on a nipple. He lightly chewed it while twisting the other. Ran tried to get away when he switched, because it was too much, but Brad was stronger than he was.

He came up laughing after Ran came with a surprised shout.

“I didn't think you got this sensitive from the healing,” he mumbled. “Is it always like this?”

“Normally people don't molest me, so I wouldn't know,” Ran huffed indignantly.

“Well, I won't mind doing a study on it,” Brad smirked.

Ran scowled at the foreigner, but when Brad kissed him he didn't bite. Didn't even consider it. Kissing was nice.

“You look like a dear in headlights,” Brad mumbled against his lips. “Don't worry. I have to go. Sad as it is.”

“More worried about his smirk,” Ran said. He could see Schuldig clearly over Brad's shoulder.

“You guys have no idea how hard I am.” Schuldig waved a pack of wet wipes. “I come in peace though.”

Ran huffed.

Brad kissed Schuldig on his way out, and whispered something in his ear that made him grin. Schuldig was looming over him in a heartbeat. His soft tongue lapping up the cooling semen from his skin. Ran bit back the sounds as best he could since Brad had left the door open when he walked out.

“Be a good kitty and mewl for me,” Schuldig leered. He kissed Ran on the lips, then pushed his tongue in. He tasted like semen and coffee.

Ran felt Schuldig's fingers brush his hole, already slick somehow, and then the foreigner pushed a finger into him. He felt his breath hitch, and by the pleased sound so did Schuldig. He never broke the kiss, just progressed to two and eventually three fingers.

It was slightly unpleasant at first, but Schuldig patiently scissored them and stretched him. He did break the kiss when Brad was back and the door was closed. Ran watched as Schuldig poured lube into Brad's hand with his unoccupied one. After that Schuldig slipped between Ran's thighs, mindful of the remaining bruises. His fingers slid out and he grabbed Ran's legs to fold him nearly in half. They kissed softly while he steadily slid his cock inside. As much as Ran tried to relax there was a bit of discomfort. Schuldig held still at first, then shimmied for a better position without really moving much.

Ran could see over his shoulder that Brad was doing something. Schuldig moaned and Ran realized that with how their bodies were aligned, Schuldig was being fucked by Brad. It was a pretty picture. He idly wondered what it was like to be in the middle.

It took them a while to find a rhythm that worked, but once they had it Ran clung to Schuldig. He needed to hold on to something. Brad's pace was almost brutal, but Schuldig looked like he couldn't get enough.

Schuldig came first, stilling and shuddering between them. Ran expected Brad to stop, but he just held Schuldig tight so he didn't collapse and kept thrusting into him like it was their last day on Earth.

Ran felt Schuldig move inside him because of the rough fucking he was getting. His cock had never gone soft. When he started moving on his own again a few heartbeats later he couldn't get a rhythm, but it didn't matter in the slightest. He cupped Schuldig's face and kissed him. It would have been easier if he had been on all fours, but he liked being able to kiss. Schuldig shuddered again just as he came himself.

Schuldig pulled out once Brad had slipped away and went to lie next to Ran on the bed, panting softly. “I didn't know I could come again so fast.”

They snuggled up to each other and laid on their sides.

He had almost forgotten Brad until the man pressed up against his back. He felt exposed and embarrassed when Brad lifted one of his legs, his hand having a steely grip on the underside of his thigh just where the knee was. A cock was forced inside his ass. He was much larger than Schuldig, but it slid in fairly easy, and Ran bit back any noises until Brad had his cock fully sheathed. Schuldig kissed him softly and stroked his skin soothingly. Brad hummed appreciatively as he started thrusting. “I love fucking tight little holes.”

When he was getting fucked he realized why Schuldig was so hot for it. That thick cock rubbed all the right places, even if the pressure on his prostate felt borderline painful. And it went deep. Ran heard himself moan like a cheap whore while Brad fucked him. The pleasure pooling in his belly and groin was making him hard again.

“That's it,” Brad encouraged when he started moving his hips to meet the thrusts.

He moaned softly when the older man came deep inside him and pulled out. Ran was pushed to his belly, he raised himself up on his elbows, but a hand landed in the small of his back to keep him still. His legs were spread wide and something soft lapped at his hole. He turned to see Brad French kissing his ass.

Schuldig asked him if he enjoyed it, but all he could do was moan into the sheets and writhe on the bed. Brad slapped his ass hard when he was done, twice on each cheek. Ran was so close to coming he could have agreed to a lot more unsavory things than that.

“Still hot for it,” Brad chuckled.

“He loved your cock,” Schuldig purred.

“Between the two of you I'm not sure I'll keep up,” Brad sighed, but he was entering him again and Ran had to wonder at how many times the guy could get hard. “Were we too rough?” Brad asked quietly. He stroked his back.

Ran shook his head. He felt too good, when he started thinking about it, and that wasn't just from the sex. Or maybe it was. His healing had picked up the pace a bit.

“Can I fuck you harder?” Brad asked.

When he nodded Brad grabbed a fistful of his hair and pushed his face down into the bedding. He struggled a bit, but there was little he could do, and even less when Brad started fucking him hard and fast.

His ass was sore and the pressure was too much again, but he wasn't getting away. After a little panic spike he relaxed into it, figuring he would just have to go along while it lasted. He didn't know if he wanted to scream or moan, but mostly he wanted to be able to breathe easier. Not having any control was terrifying, but it also left him feeling calm.

When he came Brad stopped, but only because Ran had tensed up too much for him to move. Brad fucked him through another climax, but that time Ran felt him come shortly after and pull out.

“Aw, I think we fucked the kitten stupid,” Schuldig chuckled.

 

 


	20. Snuggle Or Fight?

Ran had curled up on the couch to watch television. Seeing as the large common area was the only real place for them to hang out they often ended up in there, just opting for different areas. Cliques, just like high school. Brad was going over the mail, and had chosen to sit next to Ran. Very close to Ran, in fact. Youji was standing off to the side, nagging Brad about their pay level.

“More jobs, more money,” Brad had told him initially. Ran watched him read through the mail with more enthusiasm than it required while Youji continued to rant.

“But I do go on missions, and I still don't get a whole lot,” Youji whined.

“Ask your girlfriends to pay you.”

Schuldig snickered from his place on an overhead beam. Ran still wasn't entirely convinced the man was even human. He had jumped straight into the air, grabbed the beam and hoisted himself up. Never mind that the beams were some four meters above floor level. It was like both Brad and Schuldig were genetically engineered.

“That could work,” Ken piped up. “You charge a yen from each and you'll be rich in no time!”

“It's not that many,” Brad objected. “From what I know he's mostly hot air when it comes to conquests.”

“When was the last time you dated, asshole?” Youji shot back. He was pissed.

“Not terribly long ago.” Brad smirked. Ran flinched when Brad stroked his cheek. He still expected punches when they were arguing like this, it was too similar to the insults they'd thrown back and forth before. And yet it was different.

“I'll fucking hit you,” Youji growled. “Leave him alone.”

When Youji walked closer Schuldig dropped and landed scant millimeters in front of him. “Back off!”

Youji seemed to react to the surprise appearance more than the words, but he did jump back.

“You see that potted flower in the window? Why don't you go and whine at it for a while. It might get depressed and commit suicide so I don't have to throw it away myself. You whine more than a woman on her period,” Schuldig shouted while he advanced. It had a military undertone, something a drill sergeant might do.

Youji kept backing up to avoid having Schuldig in his face. Never mind that Youji was the taller of the two. Schuldig and Ran were about the same height.

Just as Youji seemed to gather his courage to fight, Brad rose and stood by Schuldig. Snaking an arm around his boyfriend's waist. Apparently Youji knew enough maths to calculate the odds of beating both of them in a fight, because he stomped off.

Ran had stayed on the couch. He hated how much they all argued, but there wasn't much to be done about it when eight men were living in such close quarters. The testosterone would get the better of them all from time to time, and that wasn't even factoring in the animosity from their history.

“ _Fight, flight... or fuck_ ,” Schuldig snickered in his head.

“You guys are such bullies,” Ran told the two older men.

Schuldig grinned at him. “Yeah.”

Brad kissed Schuldig, the two of them embracing while they kissed. Ran turned his eyes to the television again. On one hand, he wanted them. On the other, the safe way would be to stay out of what would no doubt be a complicated mess and do his emotions no favors.

Ran wasn't sure if he was giving them space or running away, but he left all the same. He grabbed his coat on the way out and was out the back door before he had thought about why. He still had some dull aches here and there, but he felt well enough for a walk.

He wasn't good at relationships. He pretty much sucked at human interaction in general. He also admitted to himself that he was too much of a chicken to tell his teammates he wanted to be close to the older foreigners. At least as long as they weren't just using him, or holding it over the others' heads.

When he got back the sun was setting. He was a little tired, in a good way. Some exercise always helped. The place seemed empty, so he went to his room and took off his jacket before heading to the kitchen. He had been hungry for the past two hours, but nothing had seemed to spark his interest when he walked past the local restaurants and fast food places. Unfortunately nothing seemed to interest him in the kitchen either, so he just made himself tea.

It wasn't often that he was alone. He had liked that solitude more once.

“Social skills like a wildcat,” Schuldig muttered.

Ran started. He hadn't noticed the German entering the kitchen.

“What else is new?” he scowled into his tea cup rather than at the older man.

Schuldig shrugged. “I've been in your head all day. Fascinating place.”

Ran sighed. He put his cup on the counter when Schuldig stepped closer. The hug wasn't awkward. They ended up entangled enough when they slept that it felt natural. He burrowed his face in Schuldig's hoodie and held on tight. “I don't wanna be your chew toy,” he mumbled into the fabric.

The fabric was soft, and Schuldig was warm. He always was, even though Ran sometimes expected the opposite.

Schuldig hummed noncommittally. “Has anyone talked to you about depression?”

Ran looked up into Schuldig's eyes, but didn't break away.

“You're physically hungry but you don't feel like eating.” Schuldig rested their foreheads together.

“Also happens when you cook,” Ran said with a small smile.

“I, obviously, was meant to have servants,” Schuldig grinned.

They heard the noise as Ken returned home and apparently he had Youji in tow. Ran could hear Youji giving Ken a hard time about something.

Schuldig leaned in and kissed him. Ran wanted to escape or make sure the others didn't see, but Schuldig held him tight. Slowly he relaxed and enjoyed the kiss. They had ears, they might already know what they had done that morning.

“Let us stake a claim on you. Youji will back off,” Schuldig said against his lips.

“I don't think I have the guts for it,” Ran said.

“Chicken,” Schuldig mocked gently. “Wanna learn how to clean a gun?”

“Yes.”

“Good. First we're gonna collect a few. Like Farf's. Fucker never cleans his. Doesn't sharpen the knives either.”

“Seriously?”

“Why should he? Brad gives us too much slack.”

“Why is Brad in charge then?”

“Apart from being a tactical genius and Eszett's crown prince? No clue.”

Ran laughed at Schuldig's clear disdain.

They went to collect a few guns and then Schuldig got a toolbox from his room. They sat by the kitchen table. Schuldig placed a plastic bag on the table and then a newspaper on top.

Nagi came by and sat down next to them.

“Cleaning a gun isn't strictly necessary unless your life depends on the gun working flawlessly,” Schuldig started while he slowly picked one apart.

“What I'm doing now is a field stripping, which means I'm only taking apart the major components. Barrel, slide, guide rod, frame and magazine. The main part you need to clean is the bore of the barrel. That's the hole, rookies. There can't be any obstructions here.” Schuldig held the part up.

“Now, there's some specialized products and tools we're going to use. Solvent and gun oil. You need a small brush for the bore – remember that word? – a good cleaning rag, some cotton swabs and pads. Toothbrushes are also good to have. You need some kind of stick, chopsticks work by the way. Or buy a cleaning kit. Online preferably, we're in Japan, guns aren't common enough here. In the US I assume you can pick this shit up in the grocery store.”

Schuldig was quiet while he applied solvent and cleaned the gun. “The moving parts need oil, but not excessive amounts. You need a few drops per gun, that's it.” He added some oil on a cotton swab and used it to apply a thin layer where he wanted it. When he assembled the gun he did so slowly.

“Also, in the interest of self-preservation, always keep a spare gun on you while you clean.” He had a soft smile while he checked the gun over.

“You've gone off the deep end,” Nagi snickered.

“I think he's in love,” Ran added.

 

 


	21. Mental

The streetlights quickly flashed by, making the dim of the car occasionally brighten in regular intervals. He drove fast, faster than what was safe for most people, but they were on the clock and his two passengers needed medical attention.

Brad never properly got used to Farfarello's complete lack of pain perception. The boy could feel other things to a degree, his brain was just incapable of correctly interpreting pain. It was slightly unnerving driving him to a clinic in the early morning hours while he calmly sat in the back with wounds serious enough to cause normal people to faint.

Ran looked uncomfortable sitting in the passenger seat. He felt pain, but the stubborn idiot ignored it. Brad had the idea that he pushed to finish jobs no matter the cost. Ran was competitive as all Hell, which in no small part reminded Brad of Schuldig.

Brad pulled up to a clinic and parked. He helped Ran out, because the redhead was too hurt to stand straight. Farfarello walked like he had no worries in the world. Brad tried to not think about the time when Farfarello had walked on a broken ankle for a week. He had finally asked them to check it because it had “stopped crunching funny”.

In a way Brad felt grateful to Farfarello for saving the kitten from certain death, but the paranoid part of him wondered why and what the nutcase expected to gain from it.

Ran just grunted in pain when Brad lifted him up and carried him. He didn't object, which was a small blessing.

The doctors waiting on them knew Farfarello well enough that they could convince him to follow them with no problems. Brad wasn't worried. It was the redhead that bothered him. He kept getting flashes of Ran attacking the doctors and nurses, but not the trigger.

Ran proved him wrong though, he was a very well-mannered patient. Brad had to argue a little to get the doctors to allow him to take both home, but in the end they allowed him to do as he pleased. They knew he had some medical training.

Farfarello snickered at him for how gently he carried a very drugged and sleepy Ran.

“Just open the car door so we can get home.”

Farfarello did as told and then reclaimed his seat in the back. Brad placed Ran back into the passenger seat and buckled him in.

The redhead struggled a bit against the belt while Brad started the car. It was probably pushing on his wounds.

“Keep it on,” Brad told him.

Ran obeyed, barely, but he kept holding it away from himself.

Even though he slowed down for bumps and drove smooth he had to slightly wince several times when Ran whined. He normally didn't make a sound when he was wounded. As much as he wanted to think it was because Ran trusted him, it was probably just that the pain was worse.

When they got back home Schuldig rushed out to the car and threw Ran's door open. He had the seatbelt off and Ran out in less than three seconds.

“Someone's smitten,” Farfarello noted. “I'll be in my room sleeping.” He opened his own door and walked inside.

Brad took his own seatbelt off and stepped out of the car. “I'll do it,” he told Schuldig before the German could lift Ran. Schuldig was the one in charge of mental health, his domain was physical. Even if Schuldig claimed his back was fine now he wasn't taking any chances.

Schuldig stepped back and allowed him to carry the kitten, silently holding the doors open.

“Hey! Is he okay?” Ken asked, looking up from where he was doing sit-ups on the floor.

“No, but he will be,” Brad replied.

Ken nodded and went back to his workout. Brad followed Schuldig into his own room. He had always taken Schuldig to his room when the telepath was injured and Schuldig did like his habits. Injury equaled Brad's room.

He didn't even mind, it was easier to have wounded nearby where he could keep an eye on them.

Ran was placed in his bed. He stretched his arms a little, carrying full adults around was tiring. Despite their lithe frames Schuldig and Ran were practically all muscle which made them heavier than they looked.

“Poor kitty,” Schuldig cooed. He was petting Ran's hair.

“Let him sleep.”

“What happened?”

“He was on a job with Farfarello, there were a few surprises we hadn't counted on. Farfarello actually has worse injuries, Ran is mostly just reacting to the pain.”

Schuldig was pissed off. Brad could see it in his eyes. His hands and voice stayed calm as he kept cooing and stroking. After he was sure Ran was asleep he sat up on the bed with his legs crossed. “No more mistakes, Oracle.”

“Don't you dare blame this on me,” Brad said casually. He tried to tone down his threats. So far he had only delivered five death threats that week.

“I'm telling you, this will not happen again, and you will make sure it doesn't.”

Brad sighed. Getting his team out of Eszett was one thing, getting Eszett out of his team... well, that might never happen. Both he and Schuldig were raised to be this way. “No, we both will.”

Schuldig cocked his head.

“You're upset because you _care_ , so we will both make sure he stays safe.” Brad sat on the bed and stroked Schuldig's hair. “I know this is odd to us, but I don't reign supreme in the team as long as we answer to Kritiker.”

Schuldig sighed and sagged down to lay next to Ran. “I just don't want to lose more people, Brad.”

He laid down next to Schuldig and hugged him close. He could sympathize with that. He laughed loudly when Schuldig checked to make sure the gun he carried was loaded.

“You laugh now, heathen, but I'm telling you Eszett will eventually lash out at us. You can rest assured that I'm prepared.”

“Were you born with a gun in your hand?” Brad snickered.

“I like guns.”

Brad fell asleep when Schuldig calmed down and settled, but woke up when Schuldig started stirring. That was how it normally went. He stretched, but didn't get up. He was too tired and it was still too early. Schuldig had just moved to Ran's other side and was fussing over the kitten. Brad noticed why a heartbeat later and scooted closer to them.

“He's not breathing, Brad,” Schuldig was nearly vibrating with suppressed emotions.

Checking for a pulse and not finding one woke Brad up completely. “CPR or wait for his talent to kick in?”

Schuldig rubbed a hand over his face.

If he hadn't kept his hand where it was, Brad would never have felt the weak beat, but it was there. “I think he has a pulse.”

Ran blinked a few times, but he didn't breathe and he didn't move.

“Ran?” Schuldig tried.

Ran took a breath, “yeah, I'm okay.”

“You barely have a pulse and did you only just breathe to be able to talk?” Schuldig babbled.

“I'm fine. Just let me be a few hours.”

Brad went over to his desk to get his computer. He hadn't hurried checking their downloaded copy of Eszett's database, but now seemed like a good time. “I'll keep an eye on him, go to sleep Schuldig.”

Schuldig huffed, glaring at both of them and then bundling up in a corner of the bed. Brad sat down on the bed in a slouch, headboard against his back, legs over Schuldig. He perched the laptop where he could easily read the screen and went about reading the information Eszett had on Project 67. And Mastermind, while he was at it.

 

 


	22. Free Food

Schwarz had gone to hunt an Eszett team that had wandered too close for comfort. Ran slept in the chair instead of the harem. It cracked Schuldig up any time he had to specify that space, but Ran was a big fan of calling a shovel a shovel even if he blushed doing it. It felt odd to sleep alone in such a big space when he had no one there, and the chair was far from uncomfortable.

The other three were more visible while Schwarz were away. With no flower shop and no real common interests, 'more' still wasn't 'much'. Ran missed having people around him. As much as he enjoyed being alone from time to time, now that he wasn't so depressed he liked other people a lot more.

Omi had been bumped up to university, probably because Nagi was already attending, so he was the one Ran saw most of. Still, the kid spent most of his time studying or staring at his computer for other reasons.

On the second day Ran told, not asked, Omi to have breakfast with him. He even cooked them omelets.

“This is good,” Omi said.

“Thanks. I figured I had to bribe you somehow to get you to talk to me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Why?”

“You don't normally want company.”

“The schoolgirls were more than enough company to last a week, and that was before the Monday morning shift was over.”

“Yeah,” Omi laughed. “I don't miss that. How do you stand sharing a room with Schuldich?”

Ran shrugged. “He's... been pretty nice to me, actually.”

“He's probably just trying to get you to lower your guard. I share with Nagi and even though he's younger than me, he seems so cold.” Omi frowned. “I thought since we were the youngest we would have more in common.”

“Kritiker put you in charge at first, right?” He hadn't actually seen enough of Omi to bring it up sooner, but more importantly he didn't want to listen to Omi talk shit about Schuldig.

“At first. I couldn't do it when Schwarz kept disobeying because they do things differently. Didn't help that Ken and Youji refused to listen to me...” Omi's shoulders slumped. “I asked them to bring you back, but Manx said no. Oracle was actually in favor of it, but I think he likes being in charge.”

“I was unconscious in the hospital, it's not like she could have just magically fixed me,” Ran pointed out.

“When were you injured anyway? You're never out for long.”

“The last mission we did, when they were supposed to sacrifice Aya...”

Omi frowned. “That long ago?”

“Yeah. I was dead on arrival.” Ran sighed. “I thought Manx was joking for a bit when she told on the way over Schwarz had joined.” Or, he would have been if Schuldig hadn't showed up in his hospital room.

“Oh. You seemed so okay with them, we assumed you'd already known for a while.”

“What was I going to do, Omi? I came here unarmed, straight from the hospital and feeling about as cocky as a week old kitten. Sorry for the pun.”

Omi shoved food into his mouth. He seemed to consider it while he chewed. “Ride in and save the day? You always seemed like nothing could stop you.”

“Are you serious right now? I'm not good enough to take on all of Schwarz alone, and we never did well against them as a team either.” Ran glared at the teen.

Omi frowned. “According to your file you might have some sort of talent, like them. Why did you dump Youji and Ken to run off with Schuldich? At that mansion?”

“I had a chance to get the target, I took it. I didn't really think. Schuldig was the closest to me at the time and I figured I was going to need back up.” Ran toyed with his chop sticks. What _was_ in his file? Kritiker shouldn't know jack about that. Glowing eyes, sure, he couldn't always hide that.

“Yeah, well, Miss America chewed Youji out for you getting hurt. I heard them argue. I get the feeling they see you as someone who belongs with _them_. You could have said you ran into trouble over the radio.”

“I tried to get a hold of Youji afterward but he didn't reply.”

“Crap, wait, I can explain that. He and I set it on a private channel while we discussed the art. I had the maps and everything, Nagi was just cracking security on site. If you couldn't contact Youji or me, neither could anyone else.”

“I nearly got killed over you being a baby?” Ran got up and left, suddenly not in the mood for company. He vaguely heard Omi shouting something after him.

He didn't bother to listen.

Public transportation took him to the other end of the city. In all honesty he had no idea what had happened to his car, and he hadn't asked. He missed having a car, but unlike Youji he had never been married to it. A good car was a good car, and that was that.

He waited until he could sit down on a bench outside a metro station to call Aya. It just wasn't practical to talk on the phone on a crowded subway. If everyone got into the habit of doing that the collective noise would be a health hazard.

Aya agreed to meet up with him on the condition that he bought her breakfast. It was mildly amusing to him after just dumping Omi after cooking for him, but he didn't tell her that. He just told her he was outside and that she could pick the place.

Sakura came out with her and they said a few polite sentences before leaving her behind.

“Sakura asks about you,” Aya said pointedly after they had ran out of pleasantries.

“I don't want her to get the idea I'm interested.”

“Too late Ran, she's already crushing on you. It's cruel really, you just approached her because she's my lookalike.”

“Cruel? What if I had gone for her? How creepy would that be? 'By the way, I'm fucking this minor who looks just like you.' That would have gone over well.”

Aya didn't reply, she just grabbed his arm and dragged him into a place he had never been to. He realized they weren't here by happy mistake when Aya started catching up with the waitress as if they were old friends. She had that gift, while he awkwardly struggled with socializing or stuck with being openly rude. He understood hostility. She was a social butterfly.

She introduced him as her cousin, which made him raise an eyebrow. She hadn't done that in years and years. Or, well, years to him.

When they had ordered and the food had arrived the place suddenly became much livelier. He realized it was Saturday and that they had at first been a little early.

Aya played with her glass of juice. “So? Single?”

Ran sagged down in his chair until he could rest the back of his head on the top of the backrest. “It's complicated.”

“Why? She married?” Aya frowned. “He married?”

“No comment.”

“I'll just assume the worst and think you sleep with all three of your teammates. Tell me! I'm a girl. Woman. I need to know these things just like you need to know how fast the latest Ferrari is.”

“The F70 does 350 kilometers per hour.”

Aya cleared her throat and pinned him with a glare.

“There's two guys.”

“Why does everything interesting happen around you? Do they know about each other? Do you like them?”

“They absolutely know.” Ran blushed, thinking back to their little threesome.

“Uh- _huh_... Good looking?”

“Yes.” There was no point in lying – both of them looked good. Schuldig could probably make as much money modeling as he did killing. Brad was handsome, but not striking.

Ran sat up straight when the waitress came by and asked her for more coffee. Aya ordered a cup of tea and gave her the empty glass. The waitress smiled sweetly and assured them she would be right back. She was older than he had first noticed, about to be middle aged.

“Are you gay? It's fine, I just always assumed you're straight.”

“I don't really think about it. I assume I'm bi? I haven't had the time for affairs.”

Aya rolled her eyes. She didn't bring up what she thought about his vengeance, but he knew from before what she felt. “You're a healthy young man. I feel like I've missed so much sleeping the years away, but you haven't been better. Live, dammit. Just don't try to take them both up your ass at once.”

“Change the topic,” Ran said firmly.

Their drinks arrived. Aya snickered. “We should. I think Koharu heard me.”

He groaned.

“Manx offered me a job earlier.”

“Bitch,” Ran said mildly. It had been expected, but he still didn't appreciate it.

“I can see why you would say that. I can see why she made the offer. In the end though, I think I want to move to live with our relatives. You know, the ones my real brother would have called straight away rather than simply disappearing off the radar.”

“Aya -”

“No. I don't even care. It's... I need family around. You're always busy. I might not like your stepmother, but she always takes time to pay attention to me. You're officially a law student, did you know?”

“I'm unofficially in so much trouble with Kritiker if they know this.”

Aya made a grimace. “I sort of told Manx to piss her off. Sorry. She didn't seem too surprised?”

Ran sighed.

“It can't be too bad, you would have heard from her already otherwise,” Aya said. “Look, I'm leaving pretty soon. Uncle will pick me up. Just come say hello, he sounded worried for you. He's your dad.”

“He's nothing like your dad. He's not very fatherly. I'm pretty sure he still despises me, especially if he has Ran to be his perfect little overachiever. He can just gawk over his cleverness all day. He's likely more worried about his reputation. I haven't spoken to him since I was fifteen and he hasn't contacted me either.”

“Fourteen. That's when you and my brother swapped identities and lives. I was so sure it would just last over the summer, but neither of you tried to swap back. I would have missed my parents too much to keep that up.”

“Details. It's been a long time. I'll think it over, but I can promise you he won't have anything nice to say if we meet in person.”

“Whatever. What are you doing today?”

“Avoiding my bitchy colleagues. I should buy a car, I hate the subway.”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot! The other creepy lady, Birman, asked me right after I woke up what I wanted to do with your stuff. I told her to put it in storage for you, then she asked about the car. She said they needed it, and we struck a deal.” Aya picked her phone up and typed a text message like she had used phones all her life, instead of just a few months. “I'll just ask which dealership she told me to go to. They'll give you one for free.”

“Maybe you should have taken Manx up on her offer.”

Aya struck her tongue out at him. “No. My power of persuasion will serve only one person and that's me. Sometimes you, but mostly me.”

 

 


	23. Two Days Of Hell

Schuldig took the subway to one of the more shady neighborhoods in Tokyo. He and Ran were supposed to find intel on an organization the police suspected for various things Schuldig cared nothing about.

He was dressed like a backpacking tourist. People looked at him because he was tall and foreign, but quickly looked away. The Japanese disliked foreigners. Disliked and distrusted. Schuldig disliked being stared at.

Brad had booked a room in a moderately decent hotel. Eszett wouldn't have bothered with a hotel. As much as Brad liked to save money he wasn't a miser. When he needed to spend he did. They also had state of the art technology gadgets.

He got off at the closest stop and made sure to snap a few photos on his way to the hotel. Looking the part was nothing if you didn't act it.

“Hello, I have a room reservation,” he said in broken Japanese when he approached the front desk.

He stared at his reflection in the elevator's mirror. Light brown hair with brown contacts. The same honey brown Brad had. He liked dressing up.

The room was boring in every sense of the word. Not to mention small. Tokyo was nothing but a long series of small rooms in tall buildings.

He sat his backpack down. There was a window overlooking the street on the building's backside. Not finding anything worthwhile to look at he sat down on the bed and texted the room number to Ran.

Being a telepath had the upside of recognizing Ran even when his eyes told him this was someone else. Black contacts and black hair wasn't much of a change, but somehow the rest of it made a difference. The make up was barely there, the clothes a little androgynous but still female in cut. Schuldig noted he had put an earring on again. There hadn't been one for a long time now. Ran stepped inside and Schuldig shut the door behind him.

“Come in, sugar,” Schuldig purred.

“You know, in a lot of countries having one earring means you're gay,” Schuldig informed him.

“Funny, I assumed that gay was when you had your cock up another man's ass.”

“How about getting two?”

“I'd limp for days.”

“ _Earrings_. Can I take a picture of you wearing that getup? Preferably with you on your knees and your lips around my cock? We have to test Brad's shiny new toys.”

“Toys?”

“Mhm. Yeah. Cameras and such...” Schuldig smiled suggestively. “It's not like I packed some stuff myself either...”

Ran bit his lower lip.

“Come on kitty cat, you're such a responsive little thing,” Schuldig purred. “Let me milk some new sounds out of you.”

“We're _working_.”

“Uh-huh, but this is a non-lethal hurry-up-and-wait kind of deal, so we'll have some time.”

“Right. Work. How did Brad end up shot, anyway?”

Schuldig looked uncharacteristically guilty. “It was going to be me, but Brad got in front of me and took the hit. No one can accuse they guy of being sappy, but he has the oddest ways of showing how he feels.”

“It's pretty obvious he loves you though.” Ran grinned. “It's cute.”

Schuldig poked his tongue out.

“Did you set up?”

“Nope. Waited for you.”

“I rigged the suite.”

“Efficient as always, Abyssinian,” Schuldig praised.

“I've worked here two days,” Ran mumbled, not used to getting told he'd done a good job.

 

 


	24. Do You Need It Written Down?

Ran was tired from doing all the reports after their surveillance work. It hadn't yielded much, but Brad said it was still more than Kritiker had expected. He watched Schuldig blink and try to stay awake, he was ready to pass out as well.

Birman and Manx had shown up with a mandatory lecture, and that was the only reason they weren't tucked into bed already. Kritiker had decided to inform them of policies, new developments, and other things. It was to be a three hour marathon of boredom mostly aimed at making sure Schwarz knew where the boundaries were. Ran firmly thought it could have been an e-mail. Saved them all some trouble.

He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He sat on a couch next to Brad. Schuldig and Nagi occupied a chair each. Farfarello was on the floor. The others were in the other, bigger, couch.

Birman turned the light off while Manx started a video. Ran tried to stay awake, but it was near impossible. Schuldig had sagged in his chair as soon as the lights were out, and Ran guessed he was out for at least the duration of the video. If not the rest of the day.

He started to lay down and stilled when Brad's hands landed on him, but it was only to guide him down. Closer. He didn't object to using the older man's thigh as a pillow. One of Brad's hands stayed on his arm, while the other carded through his hair. It was soothing.

He woke up before he realized he had fallen asleep. His brain was slow on the uptake. Brad was shaking him awake, he realized. The others were gone and the lights were back on.

“Come on, let's get you in a proper bed.”

Brad ended up all but carrying him. He was sure he wasn't in his room when he was pushed into a bed. He just didn't care where he slept at the moment. Besides, Schuldig was curled up in his usual ball so it seemed familiar.

Several hours later, when he was mostly coherent, he wondered why he was feeling so cozy snuggled up between a precog and a telepath. The fact that he enjoyed their presence so much scared him. He considered getting up. Three in the morning was too early even for him, so he discarded the idea in favor of more sleep.

His initial agreement to the big bed and sleeping next to Schuldig was that it was just that – huge. They could stay far from each other if they wanted. At least in theory. Schuldig had a habit of ending up curled around him like a snake. Or ask for massages. Or just generally find excuses to touch him. He didn't mind too much, experimenting was kind of fun.

Ran started out of his thoughts when Brad started lazily rubbing his back. The foreigner had snaked a warm hand under his shirt, touching his bare skin. “Did you have a nightmare again?” Brad asked in a low voice.

“No, I just woke up I guess,” he answered quietly.

“It's safe now, you can sleep.”

“Is it?” He was in bed with two coldblooded killers, and he had serious doubt about their agenda even when they were nice. He debated going to his own room to sleep. Something in him was drawn to the thrill of it. The same part that sometimes scooted closer to Schuldig during the night.

Brad kept stroking his back. “You're safe.” Ran thought it sounded more as a clarification than a repetition. “I will never claim to be a nice guy, but I have never fucked over a teammate. Schwarz obeyed me out of respect, not fear. If I had tried to scare Farfarello or Schuldig into submission they would have cut me up and eaten me for dinner.”

“No hidden agendas?”

Brad scooted closer, the hand on his back pulling him flush against the larger man. He put his lips on Ran's ear. “I want to watch Eszett crumble,” he whispered softly. Ran felt his lips move, felt his warm breath like a caress. “Kritiker is nothing, but it's better than going completely rogue. There's only one thing you don't know already,” Brad continued, still in a soft whisper.

“What?”

The older man chuckled. He flipped them easily from their sides so that Ran was under him. Ran felt his wrists held immobile over his head, Brad crouching over him with his knees on either side of Ran's hips. He tensed, but didn't try to break free. There was that little thrill again.

“Destroying Eszett has always been number one, but lower down the list is a less hazardous goal,” Brad whispered conspiratorially. Ran had stared up into his amber eyes, but his gaze slid to his lips because what Brad said next was barely audible. “One that involves two redheads.”

Ran looked back up into Brad's eyes with a slight frown. “You want another threesome?”

Brad smiled and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, barely any pressure behind it. “More of a permanent one.”

“You want the three of us to be in a relationship? Just like that?”

“We already are, in a way. It's not going to be perfect,” Schuldig said. Ran started a little since he hadn't noticed that the telepath was awake. “We fight, we argue, we bitch at each other.”

The back of Brad's fingers stroked Ran's cheek. “Nothing happens over night. Everything worthwhile takes time and effort to build. Think things through.”

Ran was skeptical about all of it. Schuldig sat up and leaned over him to kiss Brad. Their eyes were closed. Schuldig's blue eyes opened first and he said something too quiet for Ran to hear, but it was his voice that was intriguing. It was a soft sound, all love and no malice. Brad said something equally quiet.

They kissed again, then laid back down.

Schuldig wrapped an arm around Ran's torso. “Eszett didn't allow affairs in their teams so neither of us even considered it until after the Elders were gone. We just fucked once in a while.”

Schuldig gave him a sleepy and content kiss. They did kiss often enough to already be in a relationship. Ran turned and kissed Brad on his own accord, because that was how it normally went.

“So, honestly, how many relationships have you been in?” Brad asked when they had laid quietly for a while.

“None that were serious.” Ran shifted a little. “I'm not good with people.”

“I have noticed,” Brad smirked. He kissed Ran's cheek. “It's not such a big hurdle. If you end up not liking it we can always break it off.”

 

 


	25. Lazy Sunday

Schuldig was sleeping, or at least playing at it, next to him with his head resting heavily on Brad's shoulder. Brad had an arm around the redhead's shoulders. It was very different from how they had spent time together as Schwarz.

It had been all work and no play back then, with precious little time to even have any fun while on the job. Schuldig always managed to amuse himself, but now that Brad was seeing him relaxed more often it struck him how bad it had been. How strung out and snappy Schuldig had been. They were all thriving, even Farfarello. If they could just get the kittens to play nice it would be even better.

They had watched imported movies all afternoon. He could have worked. There were three missions running parallel at the same time. Nagi and Ken was in charge of the largest. Omi had a solo, which he had begged to do alone despite that Brad had suggested Ran as a partner. Farfarello's had originally been a solo, but Brad had dragged Youji into it. The playboy would learn the values of hard work even if it killed him. Brad wasn't very particular about Youji surviving lately.

There was no need to ride Ran too hard, the jobs he did got done well enough. The redhead would react better to a bit of a longer leash. The other redhead sure did. He stroked the thick hair of his companion. For once it was free from styling products. Schuldig had been the one who wanted to watch movies. He had told Brad, and then he had left him sitting by the computer. It was as close to asking nicely as Schuldig did.

“Is it over?” Schuldig mumbled. He didn't move away from the hand stroking his hair, but awake he was stiffer and more guarded. If it was anything Eszett had instilled in its operatives it was distrust.

“You just did yourself a favor; sappy ending.” He leaned his head against Schuldig.

“American movie,” Schuldig said cheekily. “I could have told you from the start.”

“Hungry?” Brad asked. He didn't care about his heritage enough to be offended, instead he was trying to do a quick inventory of what they had at home since he was too comfortable to get up and head out.

“Already taken care of. Our kitten's coming back soon. He got the three of us beer and take out.” Schuldig rose and removed the disc from the player. “Do you know what he likes to watch?”

Brad shook his head. “News and documentaries is all I've seen him with since he joined. He used to watch pretty much anything when they had the flower shop. I'm guessing to think about something else for a while.”

They heard a car pull up.

“Kitten's here,” Schuldig smiled. “Come here, we're watching movies,” he called out loudly.

Ran came in with two bags and a rush of fresh air, placed the bags on the coffee table and went towards the kitchen. “I'll have you know you're going to cause an accident one day popping into someone's head like that.”

“If I do it'll be intentional. Any preference on the next one, Kitten?” Schuldig asked.

“If we're eating? No porn and no excess gore,” Ran said. He came back with three forks.

Brad wondered what kind of food he had bought, so he grabbed a container and opened it. Some sort of lasagna. He hoped there was no fish in it, but you never knew what combinations Japanese people found acceptable. He had been subjected to quiet a few... _interesting_ variations of Western food since arriving in the country.

“Short list.” Schuldig had decided on a movie. He sat back down on Brad's left side and grabbed a container for himself. “Italian?”

Brad patted the space to his right. Ran sat down where Brad had indicated. He handed them a fork each. “Vegan.”

Trust Ran to remember that Schuldig avoided meat. Not to say he never ate it, he just preferred not to most days. He had never fussed in front of clients or their Eszett superiors, thankfully. Brad thought back on it and realized Schuldig had only started fussing about his diet when they had started sleeping with each other.

“I could love you,” Schuldig singsonged.

Brad tried it and was surprised it tasted good. Not like proper lasagna, but still tasty. “I don't know who you are, but I want Schuldig back.”

Ran hid his laugh behind his beer can.

“Mean,” Schuldig complained.

“Exactly! You're so... soft. I've been thinking about how much we've changed.”

“Nagi is ecstatic. Farfie likes it too. Especially when you didn't reprimand him for the gig when he and our kitty got hurt.”

“It wasn't his fault.”

“Never stopped you before, did it?”

Brad shrugged.

“Admit it,” Schuldig grinned. “You like us.”

“Fine.” He tossed his empty container on the table. “I like them. You two, I like more.”

Schuldig was still grinning when he kissed him. When Brad turned to kiss Ran the boy froze, but still allowed it. The telepath was climbing over him to give the kitten a kiss as soon as he was done.

“Ours,” Schuldig murmured.

“There you go with that deer in the headlights look again,” Brad said to Ran, who glared at them both. “Don't be like that, you like it.”

Ran sighed. “I do.”

Brad smiled and kissed him again. “Is that the problem?”

Ran shrugged.

They finished the food and the beer. Schuldig kept nagging telepathically that he wanted to get laid tonight. Nobody was watching the movie so he turned it off and cleaned up.

“Play with us tonight,” Brad offered Ran. “No strings, no expectations. Just give in and enjoy it.”

“Please?” Schuldig added hopefully.

Reluctantly Ran nodded his agreement. Schuldig kissed him, and he seemed so starved for it now that he knew he could have him again.

Brad felt the same way when he claimed the kitten's lips. And Ran was too. They stood for a moment and just held on to each other.

Could love? Brad closed his eyes. Could. Maybe. But he had promised no strings.

Ran had to force his fingers to relax enough to let go of Brad's shirt.

He didn't usually keep his promises.

He stroked Ran's face and nipped his neck until Schuldig started undressing. “Impatient,” he chided gently. “You could wait until we're in a bedroom.”

“No one's home.”

“They will be before we finish.”

“I'd rather not be on public display,” Ran said uncomfortably. He tugged Brad towards the room he shared with Schuldig.

Schuldig shrugged and skipped ahead of them. “As long as I'm getting laid...” Schuldig's grin turned positively wicked. “Oh, _Brad_ , baby... You'll bottom for us won't you?”

 

 


	26. Aftermath

Ran limped a little, but then, Schuldig did too. Brad was too stubborn to show discomfort. That last tumble had been one too many, but they hadn't wanted to stop. Ran sort of wanted to say yes. He sort of wanted to have more of this.

They were all high enough on all the good feeling to be playful. Schuldig had tickled Brad first, and the two of them had been rolling on the floor like little kids for a few minutes before Ran had joined in. It wasn't a fair fight with Brad being strong enough to hold Schuldig's wrists in one hand.

Schuldig was laughing too hard to be of any use, so when Brad had turned all his attention on Ran he had backed away. He didn't really want to get away, just put up a chase. Youji came home in time to see Brad backing Ran into a corner.

“Hey, lay off him!”

Ran started protesting that they were just goofing around, but Youji didn't hear it. He shouted for Omi who came running. And with him the rest of the team showed up. Brad turned and faced them, slowly. Schuldig came up to stand beside them, all mirth gone from his face. Ran went to stand beside Brad instead of behind him so that the three of them stood shoulder to shoulder.

“Why are you limping, Ayan?” Youji asked with a growl.

“None of your business,” Ran said.

“Has that asshole telepath convinced you that they care?” Youji yelled and advanced on them. “I swear I'm going to -”

One strike, one hit, and Youji was knocked out. It had seemed utterly effortless on Brad's part. When Youji's unconscious body hit the floor the room fell silent, all eyes turned to either Brad or Youji.

Ran knew that when someone talked shit about the German Brad's temper was awfully short, but the rest of them hadn't fully caught on.

Youji slowly came to life in the silence.

“Next time you won't wake up,” Brad said in an icy cool voice. He turned to the rest of them. “Since I have your attention, I want to address a few things. First of all, Ran isn't getting hurt and Schuldig isn't controlling his mind. Second, you have until Tuesday noon to get over your telepath phobias. Third, I have cleared a transfer with Birman to a different team for anyone who I feel aren't up to standard. This circus ends now. You will either be professionals or I will get rid of you. One way or the other.”

“So if we disagree with you keeping Aya as a sex toy, you'll get rid of us? Kritiker won't let you just kill us,” Omi objected.

“We will obviously get a mission on Tuesday,” Ran pointed out sulkily and crossed his arms. He had wanted to play, not have a confrontation. “And I'm not a toy.”

Farfarello snickered. “Aye. One little kitty missing will just be a little oopsie.”

“As long as I get to keep mine,” Schuldig said loftily.

“Redheads do not belong to the forces of good. He stays with us,” Farfarello said quietly in an amused voice.

“That's inhumane,” Omi complained. “Making us trip on a mission is just cold.”

Brad snorted. “Grow up, kid. I am not here to be human, though I'd prefer not to get blood on the floor. A team leader calculates costs. If you cost more money than you bring in, we have a problem.”

“So we either work or get thrown out?” Youji asked, spitting blood on the floor in pure defiance.

“Showing up with a lackluster attitude for missions is not enough, Balinese. You give it your all or I give you the boot. Japanese are famous for a good work ethic, and I'm not seeing any of it in you. I have had this talk with you already when you nearly got Ran killed. I don't appreciate incompetence.”

“Maybe we don't want to sell our souls,” Youji muttered. “Fuck knows Ayan probably lost his years ago.”

“Youji!” Omi hissed.

“Hey, Ayan, what about your new friends?” Youji continued, ignoring Omi. Ran could see in his eyes that he didn't like how much time Ran spent around them. “We all saw Oracle pet you like you were a sleepy house cat when Manx and Birman were here. I'm willing to bet one or both of them fucked you judging by how you limp. Why do you trust them?”

“Childish,” Farfarello scolded Youji. “Are you jealous?”

“You're right, in a way,” Ran said quietly. “I'm not particularly bothered by killing other humans anymore. But if you want me to spend time with you instead, you're being backwards about it with this whole routine of never answering your phone or staying in for longer than three minutes.”

“We have lunch together, you could join.”

Schuldig snickered. “Did you tell him where and when? Did you give him your _new_ numbers? No. You three are all too used to excluding him. Hypocrites.”

“You could have filled him in,” Youji sulked. Omi looked embarrassed.

“Oh, so now I'm allowed to read your mind? You keep going hot and cold. It's either 'stay out of my head' or 'why don't you tell him' with you. It's not in _my best interest_ to tell him. If you want him for your play date, you invite him yourself. I'm not your mom, and we are not friends. What's in it for me? I get more from keeping him close.”

Schuldig inspected his fingernails while he talked. “Besides,” the foreigner said after a pause, “he doesn't trust us.” Schuldig looked over to him, and Ran didn't miss the hurt look.

“Ayan? They're psychopaths, why are you letting them in so close?” Youji ranted.

Ran only heard him in passing, because he was already halfway out the door. When Schuldig looked hurt by the fact that he didn't trust them, it hurt him too. It shouldn't, but it did. He told himself he just needed to think this through. Because he didn't know the answer to the question Youji had asked. He just did. Somehow he simply let it happen, and that was not like him. He had never been good with his emotions, because suppressing them and using cold logic made life easier. A part of him liked getting a half-hug in passing, a pat on the back, or a hand on the shoulder. The same part enjoyed waking up some mornings with a warm body close by. Having someone help him with his wounds.

He knew they used the fact that the other three were rarely around and that he didn't do much with his free time. Unlike Weiss they rarely allowed him to draw away unless, like now, he left altogether. They didn't gang up on him, but they were there.

It was more like they were coaxing him into playing with them.

Youji was the one he had considered himself closest to before. They had a fragile friendship. And despite that he spent more time talking to Schuldig and Brad. And Farfarello, who he had a grudging respect for on missions. He didn't like Youji coming on to him, and he wanted back whatever they had had before this. He wanted a friend. Someone to rant to...

...when he got pissed with his lovers. Ran cursed to himself, but despite all the stalling he did... he did like Brad and Schuldig. And it hurt more than he wanted to admit to himself when he thought he couldn't have them.

When he came back after a long walk Youji was waiting for him outdoors. “Give you an army of armed goons to fight against with nothing but an over-sized knife and you don't blink, but try to talk about emotions and you run off.”

“I don't know why,” Ran said defensively. He never needed to remind Youji what he was responding to. Youji had learned that he sometimes needed a while.

“Remember who they are, Ayan.”

“I do.”

“Do you? Are they hurting you? Because, just say the word and I'll get you away from here. I doubt either of them would take no for an answer. Well, except the kid.”

Ran blinked. “Are you asking if I'm being _raped_?”

Youji nodded with a grim look on his face.

“No. I am not being sexually abused, Youji.” There was definitely sex in the picture, but abuse wasn't. They didn't make him feel like he was gutter trash. They made him feel good.

“I thought it was kinda sweet that they had something at first. Don't be their toy, Ayan. They'll toss you away when they're done.”

He wanted to tell Youji about Brad's crackpot threesome idea. Youji was social, and he knew more about relationships. Youji would only have one reply to being told that. He wouldn't think twice. Maybe he was even right.

“Look,” Youji continued, “why don't you take Sakura for a date? She likes you and she's not gonna fuck you over. If you just want company don't go to the creeps just because they live here. You're not that lazy.”

“It would be like fucking my _little sister_ ,” Ran said. “Do you really think I'm into _that_? Is that why you thought I wanted to avenge my family? Because I was fucking her?”

“No! Jeez, calm down. I thought you liked Sakura?”

“Even if she didn't remind me of Aya, she's just a kid.” Ran sighed. “I can't believe you'd actually want me to get involved with a minor.”

Youji shrugged.

Ran noticed Schuldig out of the corner of his eye, by the old sign, the foreigner moving just enough to make his presence known. Ran turned his head so he could see him. He really wanted to talk to him and make sure they were still okay. Even if they weren't going steady he liked having Schuldig as a friend.

“Go play with your boyfriend.” Youji left him there and went inside in a huff.

“Come with me to the café down the street,” the foreigner said neutrally. He turned to leave as well. Ran couldn't win. If he left Youji alone now he would probably not talk to him again for a long time.

“Are you mad?” Ran asked, exasperated.

Schuldig stopped. “No. I was mostly just being a bitch before. Why?”

It was one thing he liked about Schuldig. He wasn't afraid to admit to what had brought on his behavior. Ran never managed that himself.

“Not sure I'm up to all this fighting.”

“We'll just talk, honestly, I'm not mad. Come,” Schuldig urged with a hand held out.

Ran walked up to him and took his hand. It calmed him down, feeling skin on skin. At the same time he had no interest in being the third wheel. It would always be Brad and Schuldig. They might think they wanted to spice things up, but he dreaded the inevitable end.

They walked like that all the way to the café Ran knew they preferred, Schuldig grinning at people who frowned at them. They said nothing to each other until they both sat at a table with hot drinks.

“Three years.” Ran turned his eyes towards Schuldig's blue ones. He was in a serious mood at the moment. “We're going to stay with Weiss and Kritiker for three years, approximately, to be able to bring Eszett fully to the ground. That's what Brad told us initially. After that we'll see.”

“I haven't spent three years with Weiss.”

“I know.” Schuldig sipped his coffee. “I haven't spent three years with Schwarz.”

Ran wasn't sure yet what to make of this talk, but he took a swallow from his tea. “Are you still Schwarz?”

“I just went from Eszett's top team to this kindergarten. We will all identify as Schwarz until we're on top of the world again. The point is, three years is a long time. This drama needs to end, I'm tired of being treated like a pariah. I want to be able to relax when I'm at home, not worry about Bitchinese stirring up trouble.”

Ran shook his head. “Me neither. It's just... he was my friend. I want that back. I want someone I can talk to.”

“You can talk to me and Brad.”

“Do you love Brad?”

“You're sitting opposite to a telepath. Am I capable of loving anyone?” Schuldig smirked. “Could I love you?”

“Do you love him?” Ran repeated.

“Not the fluffy, cute, swooning love. Face it, we're assassins. We can't marry and get kids. We're still human enough to want things like that. Somewhere we belong. We have chemistry, so we're building on it. Brad's the first person I've dated, not just one night stands, but actual dates. How sick is that? But that's the attraction, having something that's not what we would normally get. Someone who you can take for granted, who'll accept you as you are.” Schuldig finished his coffee. “A chance to be yourself and not have to wear a mask. When you wake up from a nightmare, when you're relieved I'm holding you. That feeling you get is what I'm talking about. Having someone you can always turn to. You already turn to us when you want companionship.”

“I don't know.”

Schuldig shrugged. “Stop over-thinking everything for once in your life. Brad and I don't know what we're doing either, not exactly, we're playing by ear.”

“It's tempting,” Ran admitted. “It sounds good. I'm just scared Youji's right and you're just going to hurt me for the fun of it.”

Schuldig's gaze turned to cold ice.

Ran sighed heavily. “I'm sorry I keep hurting you. It's just something I need to know.”

“Do you really think that's what this is about?” Schuldig asked bitterly.

Ran bit his lip. He didn't. His gut told him he trusted them more than that. And yet, they weren't harmless.

“Suppose we had never met as enemies first, that you just knew what you've learned about us lately? Would you take a chance on us?” Schuldig asked.

Ran finished his tea. “Probably.”

Schuldig nodded. “It's unorthodox, and it's a big step. I get that you're not jumping into it. Emotions aside, I get it. Yeah, it hurts. Just before, when we were laughing... Brad kept marveling over how we could play and not have consequences. Eszett would have slapped us good for that. He punched Youji out because he was so angry they were trying to take you. He was pissed he didn't get to tickle you and watch you squirm.”

“I thought he was mad because of the way they were talking about you.”

“That too, but you keep missing that _you_ are important to us. You. We want to include you. It's not just us with you on the side.”

“Why? I mean... you have each other. You told me that from the start.”

“And I thought that was enough, but while we fit together we fit better with you there. We love each other, and we both love you. I can't choose between you. Brad can't either. I need both of you. Call me selfish. It's like there's a piece missing.” Schuldig started tearing a napkin apart.

“I don't even know your full name.”

“I don't know yours. I just know it's not Aya, and it's not Ran.”

“I'm Ran now. I was originally given Jun, my family name is Han. I swapped with my cousin eight years ago, so he has my name now.”

“Alexander Christiansen. My father is Danish, my mother is British, they settled in Germany after they married. I have two brothers.”

“Are they telepaths as well?”

Schuldig nodded. “My whole family is. Brad is using his real name. He's so dull.”

“Why are you called Schuldig?”

“You know that freaky dream? The one you got from me?” Schuldig waited for Ran to nod. “Well, after, when I got back to base everyone blamed me for the death of my team. It doesn't bother me anymore, it's just a name. The memory bothers me, but I know it wasn't my fault.”

“What did they call you before?”

“Alex or Sascha usually.” The confetti that was all that was eventually left from the napkin was scooped up and placed in the empty cup. Schuldig looked a little dejected. “Let's just go home.”

 

 


	27. You Can't Outsmart The Devil Himself

The redhead curled up in the chair next to his desk rubbed his eyes. Brad sincerely hoped Schuldig would get some decent sleep before they went to meet up with Alpha and Beta in Hong Kong. He needed Schuldig with him. If anything went wrong, Brad had seen in his visions that it would be Beta who would cause trouble. The man loved his son, that he was also sure of.

It was still 36 hours until they had to leave. He blamed himself for the telepath loosing sleep last night, but two redheads were more fun than what should be legal in any civilized country. Not that he necessarily counted Japan among them.

“I talked to Ran,” Schuldig said. “Youji did too. He's making Ran skittish. The kitten wants us, he's just scared we'll dump him. He's afraid to get hurt.”

Brad disliked being challenged for something he considered his. “What do we do about Youji?”

Schuldig glared at his feet.

“It would be best if he dug his own grave and simply fell into it,” Brad mused. “Ran is ours. Omi and Ken aren't threats in the same way. Too straight. They simply have trust issues. Omi especially. Ken is warming up to us.”

“Omi wants a father, you know. Ran considers Youji a friend. If he's hurt Ran might pity him.”

“Not so friendly these days,” Brad said thoughtfully. “A family. Omi wants a family, and we're threatening to split his... aren't we? Huh.”

“Mm, he's like Nagi,” Schuldig agreed. “Your lack of worry suggest the other three won't be permanent.”

Brad's instinct was to get rid of Youji and dump the body in the ocean. “I'll think of something. Ken and Omi disappear from my visions shortly after our next recruitment. I can't tell who it is, but you will bring him.”

It took another hour before they left the room to find something to eat. Right on time to bump into Nagi who had been out on a short recon.

Schuldig gave the boy a hug, which Nagi returned. There were times when the telepath was downright motherly towards him. Brad didn't mind Schuldig playing house with Nagi, not now that Eszett couldn't cause problems for them all.

He reached out and ruffled they boy's hair. Nagi had to stop himself from flinching, which amused Brad a bit. He had always been a little afraid, deep down. It was why Schuldig had become his legal guardian. The boy had less of a problem asking Schuldig for help. It hadn't been him being a bitch, he'd done the boy a favor no matter if he realized it or not. “You okay, kid?”

“Yes,” Nagi said.

“Good. Are you hungry? I thought I'd cook,” Brad said cheerily and started walking to the kitchen again. He snickered when all of Schwarz loudly objected to his idea. _Schadenfreude_ was his favorite word in German. “I do know how to do it.”

He saw Omi and Ken eye him skeptically from the common area. Anything Schwarz feared would have to be epic to their way of thinking.

“Do not go near that stove, Oracle,” Farfarello shouted after him.

“Yeah, remember the last time you cooked?” Schuldig pleaded.

The fact that he had always cooked before things went badly for the team, as an advance apology, might have contributed to their reluctance. They just failed to fully comprehend that he did it as an apology. They though he was cursed, and that everything that went bad after was a result of that fictional curse. You would think the three of them didn't know he could see the future with how they reacted.

Naturally, he did enjoy watching them cringe. Which was why he was going to cook today. Nothing would bother his team tomorrow, but there was going to be a rather spectacular natural disaster.

“We're going to die,” Schuldig whined in full drama queen mode. How anyone assumed he was straight was beyond Brad. Flirting aside, Schuldig did little to interact with women.

“Don't be so dramatic,” Brad chided gently. He loved Schuldig, faults and all. Life was never dull around him. Brad was rather pleased with himself. He had figured out how to get everything his way, all he needed was a couple of telepaths currently doing a job in Hong Kong and as it happened... they not only owed him, they enjoyed the type of display he had in mind enough that he wouldn't have to call in a favor. “Set the table, Schuldig. Farfarello, go tell the others to join us for dinner. Tell them it's not optional to attend. Nagi, be a good boy and start washing your clothes while dinner is cooking. Otherwise you won't have time before we leave since you have that group project.”

He started gathering what he would need and did a mental count down. Ran arrived on twenty, as he was supposed to.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Schuldig said you two talked,” Brad offered. He started peeling potatoes and carrots. They didn't have Western food nearly enough.

He saw Ran nod in his peripheral vision. The younger man was fidgeting.

“Why don't you stay and help out? I can tell you want to talk.”

Ran went to stand beside him, but stopped when Youji stomped to the kitchen. “I am not having a family dinner,” Youji shouted from the hallway.

Brad looked over to Ran to see him scowl at Youji who had moved to lean in the doorway. “Why not?”

“Because I don't trust him,” Youji pointed to Brad, “not to poison us.”

“I'm not subtle enough to bother, and I do believe attendance was required. Eat or don't, but you're sitting by the table,” Brad said. “Daddy's rules.”

Youji frowned.

Ran started fidgeting when Youji stormed off. They heard a chair scrape and assumed he had taken a place by the table in a huff.

“Relax,” Brad told him. “He'll just sulk tonight.”

The bright stoplight-red head bobbed when Ran nodded. He walked up to stand next to Brad. “What do you need help with?”

Brad handed him the peeler and took out a food processor. Ran kept peeling the root vegetables, Brad shredded them.

“What are you making?” Schuldig popped his head in to ask.

“Food,” Brad told him. “There's beer, soda and wine.”

Schuldig took the hint and carried a selection of beverages to the table. Ran peeled the last vegetables and started cleaning the mess up.

“What do you want out of it?”

“Cooking dinner?”

Ran shook his head.

“I had a vision about it. That doesn't always mean it'll happen, but I try to make the things I like come to pass. If we can make the three of us work... it'll be good.” Brad disliked talking about feelings. He'd rather keep them private, but if he did now it wouldn't help him any.

Schuldig was not bothered by emotions. He was rather at home with exploring both his own and other people's. Ran was the type to just bottle things until they exploded.

“It's not just a game?”

“No. It's not a game. I like you, and I'm not going to hurt you.”

Ran nodded.

“Go take a seat. It'll just be half an hour or so.” Brad wanted the kitten out of the kitchen before the others started looking for him.

Ran surprised him by giving him a quick hug before he left.

“ _If you're making Rösti I'm giving you a blow job tonight_ ,” Schuldig's mental voice said.

“I know, but I bet they're not quite the same as your mother makes,” Brad smirked. And to think his first team had laughed at him for taking cooking classes, saying he'd never get anything out of it. Fools.

Frying things wasn't the most challenging activity, so he went over the finances in his head to occupy himself. They were in the black, but they would soon need to buy weapons on a large scale to really take on Eszett.

When he carried the food into the common area everyone was seated except Schuldig and Ran. They were in the smallest couch talking in hushed voices, heads close together.

“Come on, dinner's ready,” he ordered them.

There were three chairs in a row available. Schuldig sat next to Nagi who had taken the seat by the head of the table, Ran took the next one. That meant the kitten would sit between them, which made Brad gloat a little on the inside. Youji clearly wasn't on top of his game if he hadn't seen this coming.

Ken was brave enough to try the dish, but Omi and Youji just sipped their drinks.

“So, this is good,” Ken said.

Socially he was better than the other two. Not a bright conversationalist, but upfront. “Thank you. It's popular in Europe.”

Ken shrugged. “Never been. I just know some of the soccer teams.”

Brad looked to Schuldig. “Schuldig used to play while he was stationed in Europe,” Brad said.

“They offered him a couple millions to play professionally,” Nagi said in a bored monotone. “Eszett doesn't allow you to slack, even with hobbies.”

“I like freerunning better,” Schuldig shrugged. “We just had to take up team sports to learn to play nice with others. Brad played ice hockey. Nearly killed a few guys.”

“And volleyball in the off season,” Brad added. “Actually I did kill a guy in hockey. He pissed me off.”

Farfarello hummed. “I was mostly drugged. Baby boy does baseball.”

“I'm glad Kritiker isn't forcing the joys of sports on us,” Youji muttered.

Omi shrugged. “I kinda like gym class.”

“It would do your stamina some good,” Ken told Youji. “That's not just useful on missions. You girlfriends might enjoy it too.”

“I've never heard any complaints,” Youji huffed.

“Ever get curious about what they _really_ think?” Schuldig asked with a sly smile.

“Like I'd ever believe a word you say,” Youji shot back.

“Don't be such a bitchy little cunt,” Farfarello said calmly. “You don't want to make me angry. I can do very painful things with forks.”

The silence was slightly tense after that, but the dinner was completed without incidents. Manx came rushing in with a last minute mini-mission, and Brad pretended he had not known Omi and Youji would spend a long time being hungry.

Brad followed Schuldig and Ran to their room after everything was cleaned up. They were going to snare the kitten. He shut the door and locked it. It wouldn't truly stop anyone, but it was a clear signal to stay out.

“Done thinking?” Schuldig nudged Ran until he was between them in an embrace.

“I don't think -”

“What do you want? Stop thinking. What do you want?” Brad asked, knowing that was the right thing to say.

Ran didn't answer, not verbally. He kissed them both. Brad chuckled. Ran was cute like that.

Schuldig actually jumped and laughed. “Oh kitten, we're going to celebrate this!”

Brad hugged Ran tightly. “Yes, we are,” he agreed. When he tickled Ran the boy first yelped in surprise and then laughed.

 

 


	28. Friday

Brad and Schuldig had gone to do a mission, so he had been alone for a few days. He fought down the urge to call them, or send text messages. They needed to focus on their mission. He hated how clingy he felt. He had been alone because no one forced him to socialize, he realized. There were still people around, so he could stop excluding himself and join the others.

He got up from his crouch on the roof and climbed down to the ground on the ladder. When he went inside he went to look for Youji, who he found by the television. The bleach blond was busy arguing with Ken over which team would win the World Cup. They only seemed to agree on disliking Germany, but Ran figured that had nothing to do with soccer.

The smaller couch was unoccupied, so Ran slid into it. He noticed Farfarello laying on the floor. Ran poked him with his foot to see if he was asleep. He'd stopped fearing him somewhere down the line.

“Jesus washed feet,” Farfarello said. He gently held Ran's ankle.

“I take it you're not cheering for Brazil.”

“Right.” Farfarello looked up at him. “Sports doesn't interest you. Brazil doesn't play today.”

Ran shrugged. “No, not really.”

“They used to play with chopped off heads, I'm told.” Farfarello stripped his shoe and sock off and used a finger to draw patterns. It tickled, but Ran didn't fight it.

“Heads don't bounce though,” Ran mused.

Farfarello grinned. “Like watermelons. They roll, you have to push more than kick.”

“Gross,” Ken complained. He and Youji had gone quiet sometime during Ran's chat with Farfarello. “It's not even true, it was a military exercise. You'd shoot a ball through a bit of silk.”

“What's with the sudden interest in soccer, Ayan?” Youji asked.

“He's not interested,” Farfarello said.

“I'm not interested,” Ran aped. He rested his back against the backrest. “I just got lonely.”

“You get lonely?” Ken asked.

“Normally his boyfriends keep him company,” Farfarello said, as if he was explaining to a small child. He started putting gentle pressure on the underside of Ran's foot, which felt really nice.

“You're really sleeping with both of them?” Youji asked in clear disgust and stormed off.

“Is it true?” Ken asked.

“Yeah.” Ran closed his eyes and moaned when Farfarello found a particularly good spot.

“Well, whatever rocks your boat,” Ken muttered.

“I prefer girls, but it bugs me I haven't thought to combine sodomy and bigamy,” Farfarello said. “There was a documentary on acupressure earlier.”

“Is this why you're suddenly rubbing my foot? You can always go for Youji.”

Farfarello snickered. “You have clean feet and you look good when you moan. Youji is all charm, no looks. I've had interesting dreams about your sister, though. Specifically, you fucking her while Schuldig fucks you.”

“Pervert,” Ran said with a small smile. Farfarello was an odd one.

“Can we not get specific? Maybe talk sports?” Ken growled.

“Why don't they tackle more?” Ran asked, glancing at the screen.

Ken looked at him like he had grown three extra heads and started singing nursery rhymes.

“Wrong football,” Farfarello said. He started on Ran's other foot.

Ran pulled out his phone, not sure why he did it. Something felt like... tickling? The phone beeped at him a second later.

“Aya's just freaky in how he sometimes just _knows_ ,” Ken muttered. “With Schuldig at least, we know he could have picked it up from a trip into someone's mind. Oracle sees the future. Aya? No talents we know of.”

Farfarello snorted and quickly found a nice spot to rub. “That _you_ know of.”

Ran answered the phone, trying to sound normal. He was willing to bet money it was Schuldig.

“Hello kitten,” Schuldig said on the other end of the line.

“Hey. You okay?”

“We're fine. Time difference is an hour, cultural difference is annoying and Brad's Cantonese sucks balls. Good thing I took a crash course.”

“You're in Hong Kong, I doubt they forgot how to speak English since the British dropped them,” Ran pointed out.

“Personally I think everyone should speak German to make my life easier. The Chinese could use a proper alphabet.”

Ran huffed.

“You're lonely. I can tell these things through my awesome superpowers.”

“It works over that kind of distance?”

“No, that nudge is the best I can do at this distance. You're just at the edge of my range. Brad had a vision and I picked up on it. Still, I'm awesome.”

Ken took the phone out of his hand. “Hey, are you guys really having a threesome?”

Ran rolled his eyes, but didn't snatch the phone back. Farfarello was doing things with his foot he really liked. Ken handed it back after being silent and just listening for a while.

“Hey,” Ran said once he had the phone to his ear.

“You alright?” Brad asked.

“Fine. Farfarello likes my feet.”

“I get the idea that I should be jealous. Listen to me, okay? Don't antagonize Youji too much until we get back, or at all if you can avoid it. We'll be back sometime this afternoon, there's stuff on my desk you can work on if you need something to do.”

They said goodbye and Ran toyed with the phone before putting it away.

“I never thought I'd see the day,” Ken mumbled. “You have this cheesy smile right now.”

“Anal sex, cures depression like nothing else,” Farfarello mimicked the tone of voice salespeople normally had. Then his face grew serious and he let Ran's foot go. “Who does who? Since there three of you?”

Ran blushed, threw a decorative pillow at him and started to put his socks on so he could leave.

“Wait,” Farfarello called. “Sit. I'll be nice.”

Ran sat down.

“But really? Who does who?” Farfarello asked, pulling Ran's socks off.

“It doesn't work like that.”

“Have you fucked Brad?” Farfarello grinned. “He's been less stiff.”

“Does it matter?”

“Nah, just curious.”

“Uh-huh. Sit up,” Ran indicated the space on the floor right between his legs, “I'll rub your neck.”

Farfarello grinned. “I like you, kitty.”

 

 


	29. Intervention

Working was better than moping around, so he took a crack at getting better surveillance for one of their low priority missions.

He was away when Brad and Schuldig came back to Tokyo. It was just after six in the evening when he got back. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. Everyone was sitting by the dining table. Manx and Birman were standing by one of the the short ends with an older woman. There was an older man sitting next to Schuldig.

They were looking at him, all of them. It made him uncomfortable.

He felt it when she started going through his mind. Schuldig's telepathy felt warm and slick. The woman felt more like an electrical current, and it wasn't comfortable in the least. She did have a lot of raw power, but she did nothing other than cut all links he had and taking control over his arms and legs.

“Sorry about that, it's always worse on you when you can feel it,” the woman said. “All done.”

“What is this about?” He felt the pressure from her power. She had stopped him from walking further, so he was left standing some four meters away from the table.

“Balinese claims there's been foul play,” Manx said. “Oracle brought two telepaths with him, so I suggested we get to the bottom of things once and for all. They've agreed to be neutral in the issue.”

Ran doubted that, but didn't say it. If Brad had brought these two, then they were partial towards him. Brad simply wouldn't allow strong telepaths nearby if they were not allied with him.

“It's OK, Aya. We're your friends. We have all noticed you acting weird since you came back,” Omi piped up. “You're never alone, you don't lock yourself up, you come seek us out all the time without it relating to a mission.”

“Sounds like normal human behavior,” Farfarello muttered irritably.

“Aya's not normal,” Ken grunted. “But yeah, he's been acting more like he should.”

“Ken,” Omi admonished, “something's wrong with Aya.”

“Maybe something's wrong with _you_ ,” Ken snapped back. “His sister is awake. He's probably just happier in general. If them fucking him makes him happy, what's the big deal?”

Ran looked over to Brad and Schuldig because all he wanted to do was to go to them. He wanted to be safe, and they were the only people he trusted at that moment. He was warming to Farfarello and Ken, though.

Schuldig turned to look towards him and their eyes locked. “I'm sorry, there was no way to talk them out of letting Alpha do that.”

Ran nodded. The pressure from whatever Alpha was doing was giving him a headache. He could still tell Schuldig was lying. That meant they were playing a game. For what?

“Ayan, he can't hurt you,” Youji said sharply. “Tell us the truth.”

Ran shook his head. Of course, they would want Youji to back off. “Did you ever stop to think that I might be telling the truth already? They're not hurting me.”

“Ayan. Listen. You don't have to protect him.”

“I'm not,” Ran growled.

“He can't hurt you.”

It was a neat trap Youji had. If Ran said he wanted to be with Schuldig and Brad, he could cry foul based on an assumption that Ran was brainwashed. If he lied and handed Youji a sob story, then Youji still won. If Youji won, Ran lost. He didn't want to be separated from them.

Ran doubted Youji would ever drop the bone he was gnawing on. Youji wanted to save him, and he would no matter how much it would hurt Ran to be “saved”.

This wouldn't end here, because even if the telepaths told Youji he was wrong he would never believe them. Youji didn't have much positive to say about telepaths.

He realized he had been quiet for a while, and the others were all looking at him.

“I'm only saying this one more time. Schuldig has not hurt me. Brad has not hurt me. I do not want to be saved from them.”

Farfarello nodded. “Good. Can we have dinner now?”

Youji slammed a hand into the table, got up and stormed towards Ran. Alpha still held him, so there was no escape. He saw the blow coming, but all he could do was move his head so that it didn't land quite so badly. It split his lip – and he stopped it from healing as fast as it normally would for the show of it.

“Fine. You wanna be their whore, don't let me stop you.” Youji slapped the side of his head and then left.

The others on the team looked upset.

“I'm sleeping in Farfarello's room until further notice,” Nagi said. “I'm not going near you crazy people. I'm not so damned sure this is any better than rape from how he's looking.”

“You're making me dinner then,” Farfarello huffed.

“We done?” Alpha asked Manx. “I can hold him still all night.”

Manx held up a hand to stop her. “Is he telling us the truth?”

“Yes.”

Manx waved her hand. “Fine, let them all go.”

Ran stumbled a little when he was free from the telepath's hold, despite not really being affected much. She snickered in his head before retreating fully. Brad was the first to reach him, grabbing him around the waist and holding him, but Schuldig wasn't far behind. The rest of the room was no doubt staring at them for openly hugging.

Manx turned and walked out. Birman was looking like she wanted to stay and watch, but she followed Manx shortly after.

“See Omi? They're all happy,” Ken muttered. “You're such a homophobe.”

“I'm not,” Omi objected meekly.

“Nagi, take Brad's room, we'll just move his stuff to mine,” Schuldig said.

Nagi gave a sharp nod. “Okay. I'll cook anyway. Are you staying, Alpha, Beta?”

“We might as well,” the female telepath said. “I'm curious about this whole... setup.”

 

 


	30. Morning Glory

_The things he got away with..._

Schuldig was alone with Ran, since Brad started his day insanely early and ended it retardedly late. Ran, however, was happy to sleep a few hours away with him.

He almost always woke up before the kitten. Stroked the soft skin and sucked marks into it. Schuldig enjoyed the way the body responded while the mind slept. He liked how Ran's dreams changed when he slipped fingers inside his ass, how he was powerless to stop him. He lubed his cock up and slid inside.

The things he got away with included waking Ran up by fucking him. He always tensed when he woke, a slight panic before he could see Schuldig, then he relaxed. It was a special kind of power trip.

“You're always so horny,” Ran mumbled, waking up when Schuldig had already given him a dozen harsh thrusts.

“There should be a rule about getting sex every morning.” He slapped Ran's hand away when the kitten started stroking himself. “No. I want to make you come like a girl.”

Ran hated being treated like a girl, Schuldig knew it, but he loved the embarrassed blush too much.

“Maybe I could...” Schuldig mused to himself. He stilled his body and focused on his memories, on the memories of women he had fucked. He forced a different reality on Ran.

When he cautiously thrust again Ran freaked out and nearly fought him off, but Schuldig held him down.

He laughed at his own trick, because Ran really thought he was a girl, felt it as if Schuldig fucked a hole that shouldn't be there. “Oh my God, I am _awesome_.”

 

 


	31. Goodbye

He had spent all morning typing on a laptop borrowed from the team's geek squad. Sitting in one of the couches he was at least comfortable while he worked. Farfarello was on the floor, occasionally running fingers under his bare feet. What was it with Schwarz and tickling?

Youji was gone a week, two days, and three hours before he came back inebriated. By the time he had slept the alcohol off and changed into clean clothes Ran was curious about how things would go. He wasn't about to make the first move, but he could see Youji approaching.

He went back to typing up the summary of the intel he had gathered. The laptop's touchpad annoyed him because he wasn't fully used to it. Sometimes clicking things with it worked, other times it didn't. Until Youji made his move he wasn't going to approach the man. It still stung him that Youji was so immature.

“Being a good little whore?” Youji asked.

Ran frowned at him. Brad was sneaking up behind Youji, but Ran didn't let on he was there.

“You're welcome to it,” Youji continued.

Hitting the keys that made the program save his progress, Ran put the computer on the seat next to him. There was no way Youji was done yet. Schuldig was beside Brad now, but Youji was standing still staring at Ran and it seemed nothing else existed to him at that moment.

“I do mean that. I am not going to help you if they beat you and I won't be your shoulder to cry on when you realize you mean nothing to them.”

“Spiteful,” Farfarello hissed.

“So essentially, we're no longer friends,” Ran said with a frown. He felt Farfarello pet his foot and tried to not get weirded out by the feeling.

“Were we ever?” Youji sneered. “You are like a blind man when it comes to social interaction, Ayan. I was never chatting you up to be friends, but you never saw it. Do you need to get raped to realize people are interested?”

“I told you -”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying they didn't. I would have done anything for you, you know?”

“No, you wouldn't,” Ran said. “You just want to save me. Like I'm a damsel in distress.”

Manx was there too. Ran frowned. Were they here for the entertainment? He disliked having to listen to all this, and he certainly didn't want an audience for it.

“That was the plan, but you enjoy being their fuck toy too much. It's not like you have anyone else to save you. Your family is gone.”

“Turns out that's not the case,” Manx said sharply. “Not that it matters, but this is actually Fujimiya Ran's cousin.”

“What, you guys just look alike?” Youji asked incredulously. He hadn't turned away from Ran yet.

“We look nothing alike,” Ran scoffed. “We traded places. He had this hero worship for my father and I couldn't stand constantly hearing about how I should be more like Ran.”

“I can confirm that,” Manx snapped. “They're waiting in the hallway.”

“You brought civilians here?” Brad asked. He had that glint in his eyes, like he was expecting it to happen and was just watching it all play out. Ran could hear that his voice was the same he used at work, not quite fake but not quite honest. Reading from a script.

Youji turned, finally. “Your pimps were here the whole time, weren't they?” He asked Ran in a harsh whisper.

Ran ignored him. He got up from the couch when Aya led their relatives into the large room. He noticed Aya's real brother looked even more like a dull overachiever now. He had never liked the guy.

“Well, I expected more of a dump,” his father said. “But when I heard from Aya you had joined some shady organization I half expected Eszett, so maybe I let my mind wander too much.”

Ran made a rude gesture.

“Fancy meeting you here, Chameleon,” Brad said in polite greeting.

“No one expected you to join the rebel side, Oracle.”

Brad's smirk dipped into a whole new definition of creepy. “No, I suppose not.”

“So, what's the plan now? Play nice with these people?”

Brad shrugged. “For now.”

“Introductions?” Aya asked Manx.

The woman looked tersely at them all. “Kiss, hug and say goodbye. I have work to do.”

Aya pouted, but went up to Ran and hugged him. As soon as they were done with that, Ran picked the laptop up and went to stand beside Schuldig.

The German slid an arm around his shoulders. Ran leaned into him. It was too early in the morning to deal with all this. His father noticed, and he predictably didn't look pleased.

“Did you know your son is fucking those two?” Youji asked, also having picked up on the man's dislike.

“Considering his age that's a little concerning,” his father said icily.

“He's well over twenty,” Brad said calmly.

“Aya's brother is well over twenty. Junior, here, is just barely into his teens. The fun part of cloning is that Eszett delivers fully grown children.”

His cousin looked surprised. “Wait... Both?”

Ran shrugged.

“Well, that's not weird at all,” his cousin muttered. Aya slapped him on the back of the head. “Hey!”

“How is he in the field?” his father asked. He gave the siblings a glare to silence them.

“He's one of our best. Now, if you want to make your flight we have to leave,” Manx snapped.

“Well, come along Aya, we're going home.”

They left and the door slammed shut. Manx was in a pissy mood.

“You two are both pedophiles,” Youji proclaimed haughtily and left with his nose in the air.

Schuldig wrapped Ran into a hug.

“Lizard,” Farfarello said thoughtfully. “A lizard who changes color.”

 

 


	32. Listen Up, Maggots!

“Until further notice we will all train together twice a week. No one will be spared and no excuses will be valid,” Brad told the gathered assassins.

“Now I know I'm on a rookie team,” Schuldig grumbled.

“Adding to that, there will be no drugs, alcohol or cigarettes in your immediate future.”

“Why?” Youji whined.

“Because you won't have a future otherwise.”

“Stop worrying about the future.”

Brad huffed. “We're going up against _Eszett_. There are plenty of people there that make Schwarz look like cuddly puppies, so listen the fuck up. Do what I say and you'll live through this. Slack off and you will not. Slacking off will put your friends at risk, Balinese, especially the littlest Takatori.”

“How will we train?” Ken asked. The jock was not adverse to physical work out.

“We'll start by having you all run Eszett's entrance exam for field agents. Today. Now. Go change into workout clothes and comfy shoes. Go!”

While they all ran off to change clothes, Brad fetched a clipboard and the score sheets. He had to wait eleven minutes until they were all back.

“I've rented the warehouse next door, everything is set up, so tag along.”

The walk across the street was short, thankfully. He had set up an obstacle course last night.

“Alright, listen up! I want you to try your hardest. This will determine everything for the next few months. What you'll be tasked with on missions and with who. Here's how it works; you run the obstacle course as fast as you can and run four laps. You have to interact with the obstacles, but if you go above or below is up to you. All red items are lethal and touching them means starting over. You will start over until you complete four laps without touching a red item.”

“Anyone who passes out will receive a rude wake up call,” Schuldig grinned.

“Eszett instructors struck people who passed out with a cane until they came to and started running or had to be taken to a medic. Usually at least three people in each group threw up. I think we'll settle for cold water today if you decide on a catnap. Mastermind, you're first. Show them how it's done.”

Schuldig shrugged and went to stand on the marked spot on the floor. Brad whistled sharply, and he was off. How the others were supposed to see how he did it, Brad didn't know, but Schuldig could move faster than almost anyone for short bursts.

He noted the time on his sheet and filled out the rest. The red items had sensors on them, and if any went off it registered in an app on his phone. He had it up to check it as they ran, or after in Schuldig's case.

Ken was fast, but not agile enough. Youji was too slow. Omi did well, which didn't surprise him. The kid had attitude issues, was all. Farfarello didn't purposefully mess up this time.

When it was Nagi's turn the boy refused to move to the start point. Brad looked up from filling out his name on the top of a sheet. “What?”

“You won't beat us this time?”

“I don't recall you running a gauntlet.”

“He ran for Silvia. You know her. Nice body, slept with pretty much everyone, horrible temper.” Schuldig grinned. “Pity on the temper really, she had a _nice_ body.”

Brad pointed to the start point. “Today, Prodigy.”

Nagi still stood where he was.

“He won't hit you,” Ran said.

“Yeah, stop being a rabbit. Move, kid,” Schuldig ordered.

Nagi went to the start point and turned to look at Ran, then Schuldig. Brad whistled before he could turn to look at him. He didn't want to be the one to lie just to comfort. Or, the third one, technically.

The boy was never the fastest, nor the most agile, of them. He only nearly missed a lot of the red items. He clocked in somewhere between Youji and Farfarello.

He didn't stop running when he was done, going straight to Schuldig and throwing his arms around the man's waist. Brad ignored them and waved for Ran to go to the start point.

Ran was slower than Schuldig. Brad had ran a few test laps while setting it up, and it was a close call between them. He hadn't expected Ran to be able to match them, but when he finished he was only two seconds behind Brad's own time.

“Good,” Brad said.

“Fuck, did you get fast,” Ken called out in awe.

“Was he faster than you?” Schuldig asked.

“He's two seconds behind,” Brad answered. “But I built the course.”

“Mind if we run?” Alpha called from the far wall.

Brad waved his hand in a “go ahead” signal. He didn't question why they were there, they went where they pleased. Bear and Rosalynn were cuddly for being Eszett agents, but they sure weren't harmless.

Beta ran first, visibly slower than Schuldig, but still faster than anyone else. Alpha grinned at him. When Brad gave her the signal, she was off faster than Schuldig. She essentially cut his time in half.

“Teleporting would be slower,” Brad noted.

“What are you two gawking at,” Alpha scolded Ken and Youji, who had their jaws open. “Where did you think Alex got his speed from?”

“Alex?” Ken asked after he had snapped his mouth shut. “Who's Alex?”

“You really though we named our youngest Guilty?” Beta asked in disbelief.

“There's more smirking telepaths walking around?” Youji drawled.

Ran slapped Youji in the back of the head. Hard. Brad saw them stare each other down before Youji huffed and walked a few feet away.

“How long are Mom and Dad Telepath staying in town?” Youji asked.

“As long as we damn well please,” Alpha replied. “If I catch you trying to hurt Alex I will kill you personally.”

Schuldig whined something that sounded like “mom” and sighed dramatically. “Like I'm a damned toddler.”

Beta stole the score sheets and flipped through them before handing them back. “The kinetic is in dire need of some proper training.”

Brad took the sheets from him and nodded. Alpha and Youji were throwing insults in the background. Ran and Schuldig were standing close together and had Nagi slightly behind them.

 

 


	33. Bitten

Ran sat in the passenger seat and watched the streets go by. He tried to not pay too much attention to the minor driving the car. He only had to tell him to shift gears twice.

“You are the worst teacher ever.”

“You asked if you could drive, not if I could teach you. You're doing fine.”

“I just, it feels like there should be some mystery to it. Like it shouldn't just be making a box of steel move the way you want it to. It's too simple.”

“Everyday driving is not the big mystery. It's remembering traffic laws and paying attention.”

Nagi drove into a parking garage Ran indicated and only parked when he found an easy spot. He seemed shaky, but not enough to loose his cool.

“Good,” Ran said.

“What if the cops had pulled us over? I'm too young to drive and Brad won't even give me a fake ID since I look even younger than I am.”

“They didn't, so don't fret over it.”

Ran got out of the car. Nagi followed a second later. He locked the car and pocketed the key. “Then I guess they won't on the way home either. Don't we need to pay for parking?”

“Did you notice the slip of paper in the windshield? It's already paid for a month.” He started walking towards the exit.

Nagi looked back and then shook his head. “Why do you guys always plan ahead?” he asked.

“Because we've gone through enough hassle before, and decided it wasn't worth it. A lot of what you see adults do that seems clever or thoughtful is really just an avoidance of repeating a previously made mistake.”

“I take back what I said before, you're an excellent teacher.”

Ran lightly patted his shoulder. He liked Nagi, he was like a sullen little brother.

They exited the garage and made their way through lit up streets and the night crowds. Ran always expected stars looking up at the sky, but there was too much light in the city. Too many neon signs. On the other hand, that was sometimes as soothing as the stars.

They were just going to investigate a building. Other Kritiker agents thought the nightly activity there seemed suspicious, but couldn't pin down just what went on.

Youji was on the mission as well, but he had left yesterday to sneak in. There was a grocery store with access to the basement and Youji had planned to hide until closing time. They hadn't heard from him since.

Nagi and Ran were entering through the back. Nagi had gadgets with him that took care of the electronic locks.

It was a mundane building, probably from the eighties, and a little shabby. Ran couldn't shake a bad feeling in his gut, but he didn't really understand why he had it. It was something he knew, yet at the same time didn't know.

“We might bump into trouble,” he told Nagi.

The boy shrugged, not impressed. Ran figured working in Eszett had given the kid a thicker skin. Working with Brad had likely made him used to hunches as well.

Getting down into the basement was surprisingly easy. Two more keypad locks and they were there.

The walls were concrete, but the floor was some type of plastic. There were stains on both, but little actual dirt. Some doors were marked, while others only had numbers on them. They looked into the unlocked rooms first. Other than storage and recycling, they found nothing in them.

The bad feeling Ran had was dull background noise. He picked the lock on a door at a whim, because that feeling seemed stronger there. He waved for Nagi to come over when the lock clicked open.

It was a bare room, just concrete walls and floor. The light was on, but it was empty. A maintenance hatch was on one of the walls, similar to those that opened up to crawl spaces and shafts. Buildings had all kinds of secrets in their skeletons.

It was open, and noises were coming from it.

Ran considered pulling out, they had no back up and this was making him more nervous than it should.

He entered the hatch and climbed down the rickety wooden stairs. It was steep and narrow, but not completely unsafe.

Nagi was close behind him.

It led to a room where an old boiler was left to rust. Youji was trussed up in the ceiling with his own wire. It seemed attached to the pipes.

Nobody else was there.

“Shit, am I glad to see you,” Youji sighed.

Ran didn't cut Youji down. Nagi stilled when he noticed Youji's relieved smile.

Youji had fangs.

His phone had coverage so he called Brad. It was natural now, to turn to him when thing turned out of hand. “We need some help here.”

“Don't cut him down.”

Ran grunted some sort of assent and hung up.

“He has bite marks all over,” Nagi noted. He focused his gift to hold Youji up so the wires didn't cut deeper into his skin.

“Yeah, yeah, stop gawking and cut me down,” Youji drawled.

“Brad and Schuldig are on the way, they'll have tools with them,” Ran assured him. He could be lying. His lovers could be bringing in something to kill Youji with. He guessed they would try to use this development to their advantage, because that seemed more their style.

Youji nodded. “Awesome. It hurts like Hell, you know?”

“What happened?”

Youji laughed nervously. “Ah. You're not going to believe me. There were vampires here, a bunch of them. I talked to them for a while, but they were busy... relocating I guess.”

“How many?”

“Five, I think.”

“Were they coherent?”

“Yes. They seemed... Focused.”

A well fed group of five. Ran knew nothing about vampires, but he had a hunch, and that hunch said it was bad news if they went after them. Normally these pseudo-memories were useless, so he wondered why they were suddenly helpful.

His father would know more, that was for sure. He'd be damned if he went running to him for help, though.

Ran sighed.

Nagi wisely stayed as far away from Youji as the room permitted.

They didn't have to wait long for Brad and Schudig to show up. They had a muzzle with them, among other restraints.

Ran helped them restrain Youji before they cut the wires. Nagi got Youji up the narrow stairs and then dropped him gently to the floor. “I can't.”

“Don't worry. We got it from here,” Farfarello snickered. “I do so love to see others restrained.”

 

 


	34. Now what?

Brad wanted to scream in frustration, but he was the leader and he had to stay cool.

Why was Youji ever cleared for this job?

He sat by the dining table in the common area with a mug of hot coffee between his hands. They had temporarily switched rooms between Youji and Farfarello, and Youji was currently restrained inside the reinforced room.

Ran had said he had felt something. Sensed the vampire almost. That was also troubling. There were a few talents that could do that, but most of them were related to telepathy.

“What are you going to do?” Alpha asked.

“I'm not sure yet.”

“Why would the clone sense vampires?” Beta asked. “The boy feels telepathy if it's actively used on him, he can't sense us if we ignore him.”

“Vampires aren't actually native to Earth,” Alpha said. “Either kind. There's warm and coldblooded and from what we know they're two species that are related.”

“He's too weak.” Beta frowned thoughtfully. “Which is why Chameleon doesn't take to him, he wants someone like him. They must have expected so much more.”

“What do I not know here?” Brad asked.

“Hard to tell, little prince,” Alpha chuckled and poked his shields playfully. She could easily breach them should she want to, but it was a sign to keep out and she respected that.

“They're talking about the... warmblooded?” Ran said. Brad looked up at him. He had snuck up on all three of them. How, Brad couldn't say. Two of the strongest telepaths to ever live and he just snuck up on them like they were normals. Ran hugged Brad from behind. “I want to kill him,” Ran mumbled into his hair.

“Why do you want to kill Youji?”

Ran hugged him tighter. “I don't really know.”

“Are you afraid of him?”

“I thought so at first. It felt like I was nervous, but it's not exactly the same. I'm still felling it. It's more like when you're on mission and your target is close. Like a hunting instinct.”

Brad let go of his mug, scooted the chair out and tugged Ran into his lap. His hands were still warm from holding the mug so Ran felt cool where he touched skin.

It always calmed him to have one of his lovers close. He had been worried sick earlier, when he had a vision of Ran alone in a room with a sharp fanged vampire that looked like Youji. He didn't fuss over his lovers on the job, he couldn't, but he never liked placing them in more danger than they could handle.

Not to say he didn't want them working. They were both capable and could handle themselves most of the time. If kept them locked up they'd loose that wild spark in their eyes. Both Schuldig and Ran were restless beings.

“They expected the DNA of a warmblooded vampire to make talents more potent. It doesn't work like that.”

“Why do you retain memories from them?” Alpha asked.

“I don't know. Vampires mature slow, though. It could be Eszett just wasn't patient enough.”

“We'll sleep on it and see how it looks in daylight.”

“They're not harmed by daylight,” Alpha cautioned. “But sleep would be good.”

He stayed with Ran on his lap while Alpha and Beta left. They were amused by his current team, which was why they were so often close by. They also missed their youngest son, which gave them more reason. Brad half wanted to meet Schuldig's brothers. They could make good allies.

Alpha seemed terribly amused by the threesome. It wasn't too rare, but rare enough that she liked to poke at their emotions to see how it all fit.

Youji started thrashing in his cell. Brad could barely hear it, but Ran stiffened and growled. _Growled_. Brad wasn't so sure he liked it. Youji was nearly feral, Farfarello was always just a step away from violence, and Ran started displaying more and more behaviors that suggested more animal instinct and less civilized human being.

When he nudged Ran, however, there was no aggression towards himself. Youji had started to snap at everyone once they had gotten him back to base, Farfarello never knew friend from enemy when he was bad enough. Why did Ran make the distinction? Would he keep doing it?

Youji had stilled. Brad wondered if it was Ran's doing or something else. He wouldn't be surprised if it somehow was Ran's doing.

“We should go to Alex,” Ran whispered. He got up and started walking to their bedroom.

Brad grabbed his now cold mug and stopped by the kitchen to rinse it and put it away. He turned the lights out before going to the bedroom. The loft was dark, but the light was on in main room.

Schuldig sat leaned against a wall with Nagi using his lap as a pillow. They were talking softly, or rather Schuldig was telling Nagi everything would be fine.

Ran was gathering pillows and blankets so that Schuldig and Nagi wouldn't have to move much. Brad sat on Nagi's other side and stroked his hair. Ran cuddled up to Schuldig as soon as he had built a nest of sorts around all of them. He dragged Schuldig down, making Nagi sigh and change position a bit.

“His mind is such a clusterfuck now,” Schuldig lamented.

 

 


	35. The Main Course

Schuldig was steering clear of Youji whenever he was allowed out.

“What do we do next?” Ran asked Brad. “Go after the vampires?”

“In a sense, but no. We go after Eszett.”

“And we're going to Germany,” Schuldig said happily.

“We're not going sightseeing.”

“But we're going to Germany. Proper food.”

Ran looked skeptically at Brad. “How do we travel to Europe with a vampire? Coffin?”

“Drugs,” Schuldig grinned.

 

 


	36. What Kittens Like

Brad had talked at length with Alpha and Beta and he was fairly sure he had them on board. They were going to convince Chameleon as well, he had been on their team and he was good. That gave him eleven people, which made the endeavor doable.

He missed the house in Japan. They were in a hotel – a nice one, mind you – and although he had once loved hotels because it meant someone else did all the mundane tasks it was a bit cramped with three people in the same bed. Currently they were only two, and he waited on the third.

Farfarello and Youji were calm for the time being. They had gone out to shed blood together and it seemed to have a positive effect on them both to spend time together. They weren't friends, per se, but Youji had come to realize he couldn't antagonize the entire team.

Ran closed the door with a soft click. On the carpeted floor they all moved more stealthily whether they tried or not, but try as he might he heard no footfalls.

Schuldig woke up blearily when Ran placed a bag on him. “Clothes.”

Brad looked between them. Schuldig had bought Ran clothes earlier. “What are you two up to?”

“Uh, we have the same sizes, kind of,” Schuldig muttered as he picked up the garments one by one.

“And?”

“What are these?” Schuldig asked, staring into the bottom of the bag. He reached in and touched something before an unholy grin spread on his face. “I like.”

“We gave up on keeping stuff separate,” Ran answered Brad with a shrug.

“You have pretty different styles.”

“Not really,” Schuldig said. “He likes goth stuff more, but that's it.”

Ran disappeared into the bathroom.

“Sleep,” Schuldig decided with a yawn. He placed the clothes back in the bag and sat it down on the floor by the bed.

Brad pulled him closer until they were embracing. “How's the head?”

“Still feel like I was hit by a semi,” Schuldig mumbled, relaxed against him and went back to sleep. Brad couldn't sleep. He was tired enough that his eyes felt like sandpaper, but he couldn't.

The bathroom door opened and Ran came into the room. He turned off the lights before he crawled under the covers behind Brad.

He felt soft lips on his neck. “You need sleep,” Ran whispered.

“Too much going on.”

The joy of knowing the future through visions was that when things shifted too much they popped up like camera flashes at the Oscar's.

Ran snuggled closer still, until they were pressed front to back. His arm went around Brad's waist.

It didn't allow him to sleep, but he was comfortable.

Or, he thought it hadn't allowed him to sleep. Brad woke up late the next day. Ran and Schuldig were gone, but there was a note in his hand saying they were out for a run. He rubbed his eyes and stretched. The day promised a very relaxed schedule, so he stayed in bed. His two lovers tumbled in half an hour after he had woken up, sweaty and tired.

They said hello and then disappeared into the bathroom together. Schuldig sometimes made sure Ran was exhausted before having his way with him. He was a little envious of Alpha and Schuldig having so much stamina, they could go on for days as long as they didn't use their speed too much.

Brad walked into the bathroom and saw that yes, Schuldig was true to form that day. Ran was panting for breath, face down on the tiled floor while Schuldig fucked him hard. They were sweaty and flushed. Ran trembled from exhaustion, but he tried to move with Schuldig.

Ran slumped when Schuldig came, but Brad knew the German was far from done. He watched while Schuldig lubed his hand and arm. He didn't think Ran could handle it, but he just wheezed and squirmed when Schuldig began inserting his fist.

Brad worried every time he watched that Ran would pass out – and wake up freaking the fuck out – but he always stayed awake. Weak and struggling to breathe, but awake.

It was hot to see Schuldig steadily fist fuck Ran. He knew just how tight the boy was and marveled at the lack of pain on his face.

“We've done this before,” Schuldig said out loud. “Kitten likes it.”

Ran just laid there and panted, he should have recovered his breath by now, and he probably would have if Schuldig hadn't made him pant from lust.

“Almost like strangling,” Schuldig supplied.

He twisted his arm, an almost cruel smile on his face as he focused on Ran's sweet spot until the boy came hard. And passed out cold. Schuldig slid his hand out. He made space when Brad walked closer in the small room.

Brad flipped the boy over and fisted Ran's sweaty hair, pushed his head off the floor. He didn't bother with lube, just roughly thrust his cock into the warm hole and fucked it like he was possessed. There was a soft hiss before Ran's eyes opened. He liked how Ran was too weak to do anything.

“ _He likes being dominated_ ,” Schuldig sent telepathically. “ _Sometimes I fuck him while he's asleep. He'll thrash and fight when he wakes, but he likes it._ ”

Brad groaned. “God it's like fucking a girl.”

Ran blushed fiercely, even tried to hide his face when Brad and Schuldig praised him for taking it like a good girl. Brad dragged him up by his hair and made him sit facing him in his lap. He waved Schuldig over.

He kissed Ran to distract him, but he seemed to know what was going to happen when Schuldig scooted up close. Ran whined and started panicking, but Schuldig was relentless. Brad felt the hard cock slide against his own and Ran gave in and held on to him. It became tight, almost like a vice around his cock. Brad didn't mind the blunt nails biting into the skin on his back. He would be the only one to bleed after this encounter and that was enough of a safety net for him.

Ran mixed pained whimpers with soft mewls and dug his nails in deeper.

“See, you're fine,” Schuldig soothed.

It was kinky more than it was practical to fuck him like this. He liked the way Ran's body was almost limp, the fact that he had two cocks inside him and was hard himself despite it all looking painful.

Brad tried to keep a pace with Schuldig, but in the end they moved Ran instead. It was a short trip to reach orgasm, Schuldig first, then Brad. Ran came when they had pulled out.

Ran just about had the strength to weakly slap his cheek. Brad laughed. “Shut up, you liked that.”

Gently he carried Ran to the tub and rinsed him off. Brad realized the uncomfortable squirming came from the lube and semen leaking from his swollen hole. Ran liked being clean.

“Minus the last bit,” Ran mumbled tiredly. They could all fill in the blank. Ran hadn't said he would never do it again.

Schuldig sat down in the tub facing Ran. Brad started alternating who he cleaned. He slipped his fingers inside Schuldig.

“Let's go out to eat,” Brad suggested. “Get some local food, get to know the area a little.”

 

 


	37. Flight

A sane person would never challenge Eszett.

A sane person would also never go against Schwarz.

The chaos suddenly enveloping the organization gave Geisel a headache. He was bundled up along with a few others and led out by an old man he didn't know.

The whispers were everywhere. Everyone wanted to know more and there were a lot of gossip. All Geisel trusted was what he had been told – they were being evacuated.

“This is the last bunch,” the old man told a woman. Geisel didn't know her, but she had a name tag that said Paula. Probably one of the telepaths in charge of the normally born kids. Some of the orphans were raised by teleapths under Project 5. Geisel didn't know much about it, he mostly interacted with others from the series 60 projects.

“What of the others, Franz?” Paula asked, angry.

“They are too weak to bother with. Let them die. Let them kill them all.” The old man, Franz, stared the woman down until she left with a string of curses.

Geisel was herded into a plane. He was one of the bigger kids, but most of the others were older. Being in mixed groups with normally born children was always bothersome because they knew more and were a lot more vicious.

“They're taking us to some place in Japan,” a kid said. Geisel guessed precognitive or telepath. “I thought we'd lost Japan?”

“Schwarz and the other rebels are in Europe, though. Might be safer.” Another kid. Geisel vaguely remembered him as one of the other cloned kids.

“Shut your mouths,” Franz snapped as he came back to there they were all seated.

“Why? We want to know what's going on,” a young girl spoke up.

Franz looked about ready to beat them into submission, but in the end he just sighed. “Fine. Here's what's going on... Our best team, Schwarz, disappeared when the other Elders died. We thought them dead too. They weren't, they had turned on us and now they will destroy all of our bases.”

Geisel didn't feel much either way for Schwarz. He had heard the rumors.

He was hungry, cold and that Franz seemed scary. Those were more immediate concerns.

 

 


	38. Fight

Schuldig moved as quietly as possible. The complex had several buildings, huge steel whale carcasses with concrete floors and too many dead angles.

The prey they were after was one of Eszett's better organized cliques. Personally he found it insulting how the organization he had once considered an iron fist seemed to be more of a loosely held together cult. It made things easier, but it also made him question why no one had managed to bring Eszett to heel before. Was this just the perfect time? Or was there something else? Was _someone else_ attacking as well?

He had already fought, an won, against a telepath roughly of his own level. His head hurt like a bitch from that. Fighting like for like was stupid. Precogs did better against kinetics than other precogs. The exception was two telepaths against one lone telepath. That was like magic.

Alpha, Beta and Chameleon had agreed that this place needed to go. Schuldig thought Chameleon seemed interested in how Ran had turned out, but it was a cold, clinical interest.

Schuldig was more interested in watching his parents work anyway. These were old, middle aged talents who were still able to do a mission like this. Usually talents burned out fast and died young, but these three were a different breed. Schuldig had heard stories of their missions from when they were younger. They had all been on the same team.

It was a hilarious mix of rookie mistakes with new gadgets and moments of sheer brilliance.

Brad placed a hand on his shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “ _Easy._ ”

He stopped and noticed they were at a face off with the rest of the Eszett loonies. The plan had been to scatter them and kill them off one by one.

It was doable that way. Schuldig straightened up and grinned at them. He could walk through Hell with a smile if he had to.

“Aren't you a ragtag bunch,” the leader commented.

“You have no idea,” Schuldig muttered. Just the fact that Farfarello was keeping Youji in a leash was weird in its own right. Ken and Omi looked like they picked their clothes up at thrift stores, and sad as it was it was probably true too. In contrast, Ran, Nagi and Schuldig wore designer clothes. Brad was in a suit. Alpha and Beta looked like they were in the army. Chameleon was some... Schuldig didn't even know. It was likely a mock up of an early Eszett uniform.

Ran hadn't stopped. He kept walking up to the other team to stop halfway between both teams. He thought he knew what he was doing, so all three telepaths allowed him to stray.

“What is he doing?” Chameleon hissed.

“Now you worry?” Schuldig sneered.

Ran, on his part, held his hand up in the air as if he was picking an apple. Something fell into his hand. Schuldig had no idea what, just that it looked shiny and was roughly the size of a grapefruit.

The Eszett team looked pale suddenly.

“Sorry, are you tired?” Ran asked.

Brad was walking towards them quickly, motioning for the others to attack. Schuldig did not need to be asked twice. He had been kicked around enough as a teen that he wanted vengeance.

Ran stood perfectly still, holding that sphere and looking inward. Schuldig didn't try his thoughts. He worried sometimes what he would find if he dug too deep. He slaughtered the weakened team along with the others instead. Nothing cured a headache like a little killing spree.

When everyone was dead he walked up to Ran. “What did you do?”

Purple eyes turned to him. Familiar, yet different. Physically Ran had changed subtly, he did from time to time when he used his talents. The sphere fizzled out of existence.

“I don't know,” Ran mumbled. “Instinct, I guess.”

“What _did_ you mix into him?” Schuldig asked Chameleon.

“You'll have to remember that our cloning program was in its infancy and geared toward creating talented children,” Chameleon sighed. “We tried everything, everyone, but the talents didn't stick. I was tasked with helping one of the scientist teams get their material at the time. I brought in everything from werewolves to aliens and even common thugs. Nothing worked.”

There was a pause.

“He's not a vampire, but it's easy to assume that. He's what the vampires fear. There's roughly forty percent, sixty is mine. It blends effortlessly, which is why we used it. Blood from a vampire will succumb another species and turn them into,” he motioned Youji, “that. DNA didn't work like we assumed. He was supposed to get all the perks, the strength, the speed, you know. He didn't. I kept him because he was the only one to survive past six months old. So many years, so much work, I wanted one souvenir from it even if it was useless.”

“This does not seem useless,” Brad said and indicated the dead team with his gun.

“He could never do anything even remotely similar in the trails.”

“Eszett trails?” Schuldig asked. He hadn't known, well _realized_ was more accurate, how familiar Ran was with Eszett. He should have pieced it together. Ran had spent years upon years with Chameleon. That meant a lot of exposure to Eszett.

“We all play down a little on trials,” Bear scoffed. “What was the score?”

“Nothing, as close to normal as possible while still showing traces.”

“Some mature into it late,” Alpha shrugged. “Something Eszett never took much stock into.”

Schuldig shuddered. He knew he would have had a lot more siblings if Eszett hadn't insisted his mother abort any fetus not showing any promise. They had almost forced her to abort him when he had finally reached out to her close to the end of the second trimester.

“That's why they grew them. He should have manifested.”

“I did,” Ran said hesitantly.

“What?”

“You always knew I had some of your memories, did you ever consider that I might also have _his_?” Ran asked. “Why would I want to die twice by your hand?”

“You said they were fuzzy.”

“They are much weaker than my own. The problem is separating them, I used to think they were all yours except for the death scene one.”

Youji cleared his throat. “If you can take energy, can you give it?”

“Yes,” Ran said. The sphere came into view again and Ran pushed it into Youji's chest. Youji screamed and collapsed, gasping for air. “Not that it does you much good.”

Schuldig fingered his gun. Ran was able to keep secrets, and he didn't like that. Technically speaking he was one of the better telepaths Eszett had ever had. He wasn't as powerful as he could have been, but Schuldig liked to think he knew his shit. Then again, Ran had a slightly different flavor to his thoughts, a different way of organizing memories, a different way of seeing the world. Perhaps the problem was that Schuldig used standard practices on a non-standard brain. He would have to explore that theory later.

“Prodigy, Chameleon, bring it down,” Brad ordered.

The team cleared the building and walked to an open area. The two telekinetics stood on either side of the rest of the group. Chameleon gave the signal, then they both started destroying the buildings around them. Nagi visibly struggled to manage, but Chameleon didn't flinch.

“Is there a sub-level?” Ran asked. He was frowning at the ground.

“There's nothing,” Bear said.

“There is,” Schuldig contested. He was still connected to what Ran was feeling.

Alpha sighed. He knew she was tired, but she never let the little details stop her. “They're shielded,” she confirmed. “Possibly Paula.”

“I fucking hate that bitch,” Schuldig muttered. “Nice boobs though.”

“Collapse the tunnels,” Ran told Chameleon.

“Can't, I need to see what I'm manipulating and it needs to be solid.”

Ran kicked the dirt. “You can see the ground.”

Chameleon shook his head. “At best I'd end up squeezing the top soil against the bedrock.”

Nagi tried, but ended up spraying dirt and not much else. He was considerate enough to not aim it at them.

“Air bending,” Schuldig started to say, but stopped himself. “That's it. You use air. That Chinese bimbo, she never did. She touched and grabbed instead of floated objects.”

“Yes, but she's well and truly on the wrong side of the fence,” Alpha commented.

Ran frowned. “It doesn't make sense to me. If you move air or earth, it shouldn't matter.”

Schuldig shrugged. He wasn't a telekinetic. He knew how to control the talent if he was inside someone's mind, but he wasn't up to speed with limitations.

“We'll find the exits and entrances and block them. We can finish tomorrow when they have had time to stew a bit,” Brad decided.

Schuldig looked around at the team and decided it was a good strategy. A lot were wounded or looked tired.

 

 


	39. Discord

The tunnels and were vast, but they connected to few actual rooms.

The long wait had done them good, but the trapped team had suffered. Brad was glad to be done with them, and the damned stench, when they were on their way back to their temporary base.

Cleanup missions were overrated.

Schuldig flipped through the radio stations in search of something he wanted to listen to. Ran and Nagi were in the back seat.

“How much is left?” Schuldig asked suddenly.

“Bits and pieces.”

“And we crush them all?”

“Yes.”

“Because it's necessary, or because you want to?” Ran asked.

“Both,” Brad answered. He expected an argument, but Ran stayed quiet. Ran had been quietly following his lead so far. Perhaps too quietly.

“You know they might scatter when they hear about our crusade and realize they're better off without Eszett,” Schuldig mumbled.

“Not taking the risk.”

Schuldig shrugged.

“I have a job for you,” Brad told Schuldig. “The people backing Eszett financially need to be dealt with. One of them live nearby.”

Finding a good song he turned the volume up high. “Sure thing.”

Schuldig left with the car after dropping them off at the hotel.

He and Ran looked over the plans for their next mission. “If we use lighter bombs there won't be as many casualties.”

“I don't care about that,” Brad said.

Ran crossed his arms. “I do.”

“I'm not jeopardizing the job because some civilians will get hurt.” Brad glared at him. “Suppose we save two civilians and end up losing one of our team members, will that be worth it?”

“We won't even _be there_ , Brad,” Ran argued.

“Don't argue, do what I tell you to.”

“The fuck I will,” Ran glared back, his temper rising. “You think I'll help you defeat Eszett just to see you become like them again, you're wrong.”

Brad had a shorter fuse than usual because all the pressure of making this successful was on his shoulders. Ran knew this. Still, when Brad slapped him he struck back.

“This is what we're to expect?” Ran spat.

“Don't disobey me, not now,” Brad shouted.

“I am not doing it, not this way,” Ran shouted back.

Brad shoved a folder into his chest. “Then go to Europe, this should be more fitting to your self-righteous palate.”

Ran held Brad's gaze for what seemed ages. “I'm not promising I'll be back,” he eventually whispered.

Nothing pissed Brad off like having his team disobey him, but he still felt enough for Ran to give them both a chance to cool off.

Maybe Ran had a point. Maybe he didn't. Brad slammed his fist into the door frame, not feeling calmer when the wood broke, but liking the destruction.

He was not only raised to be Eszett's puppet – he was supposed to have been the one to one day control it. That was why he had opposed the old geezers plan for immortality. That was why he had made sure they died. He hadn't liked the future he saw. It had been dull and filled with paranoia. He would have lost Schuldig and with him Nagi and Farfarello. He would have been alone. Even knowing that didn't remove a lifetime of being taught how to rule. How to control. How to crush.

Getting Schwarz out of Eszett was indeed harder than getting Eszett out of Schwarz.

He absentmindedly threw a vase at the wall. He wanted to destroy something, but his heart wasn't in it anymore. He wanted to be alone and he hoped that when Ran came back they could fix this.

Nagi stormed in and demanded to be told why Ran was packing. His mommy wasn't around so he had to actually talk to people to find things out. Schuldig was a handy person to have around – nothing was a secret.

“Aw, poor Nagi, are your mommies both gone now?” Brad mocked him.

“Nevermind,” Nagi muttered darkly. He looked at the broken vase. “I can fucking guess.”

 

 


	40. Follow The Money

All Eszett's financial backers were morally corrupt, some smarter than others, but few presented a challenge to kill. The trick was to gain access to their money.

One would assume Brad was better at doing this kind of work, but while the old shrew was fantastic at making budgets he couldn't pick codes from a victim's head.

But Schuldig could.

 

 


End file.
